Problems - Coin Banks, Atom, Ezra James

Everybody got 'em, every, everybody got 'em

Everybody got 'em, every, everybody got 'em

Everybody got 'em, every, everybody got 'em

Everybody got 'em, every, everybody got 'em

I let 'em go, let 'em go, let 'em go

All these problems we have are never set in stone

'Til we dead and gone at heavens door, homie, yo, we never know

But I heard that everything get better so

We learn to fly when we fall out the bird’s nest

Priest by the burlesque, stripper on the church steps

Live like its your last minute and your first breath

Bury your burdens, nobody is perfect

I wanted to rhyme like Common Sense

But that mirage in the mirror made it clearer I’m not the next

André or Jay or Biggie, I started to comprehend

I should be grateful for what I am

Like Kendrick Lamar has said, we all lack in that confidence

That keep me modest when I go home and the concert ends

And I’m back on the grind behind my office desk

On that nine-to-five, feel like LeBron when he on the bench

Bathe in my accomplishments, soak up in the compliments

Deal with a heavy consequence, weighing on my consciousness

Sorry for the empty promises, trying to find where my conscience went

Not knowing what an option is, dust off all of your problems

Everybody got 'em, everybody got 'em

Everybody got 'em, everybody got 'em

Everybody got 'em, everybody got 'em

Everybody got 'em, everybody got 'em

Everyday I’m faced with these problems

Everyday I’m just trying to solve 'em

So don’t tell me all of your problems

Cause everybody got 'em, every, everybody’s got 'em

We got problems, we all got problems

She got problems, we all got problems

We got problems, we all got problems

They all got problems

Problems we been bugging about are blessings in disguise

Falling on my lap, I had my head up in the sky

Like what if, and then what, but guess what?

We never get it right, it don’t matter in the end, y’all

Everything is our fault, and in time

It will be our downfall (uh, right…)

What we need a bigger house for?

It’s like

We spend more outdoors than inside

Making mountains out of anthills, they weigh us down like some anvils

Push a domino like vamonos, and lock the door

Throw away the key, adios and pop a couple Advils

And act like the problems solved, but not at all

Watch the world turn from my arm chair, amen

People on their deathbed, getting their palm read

God bless, everybody got a way to deal with their

Problems, problems, problems… try to picture

Dilla in the hospital lying in bed, making beats

If you believe that you’re dying, your dead, say your peace

Never let your pride get behind your hind legs

Only problem is the time you got left, chase your dreams

For what it is worth, live every minute like it is your last

And breath like it is your first

There is no running- running from your problem- problems

They coming for you