Yea, there it is, there it isnnService, work itnnThe vagrant came upon a plot, shop – set it downnFound vacant, he gon' make it into something better nownBarn hand, conversant in farm land, planted seven rowsnWill it ever grow? Heaven only knows, though he'snHopeful, never boastful about the ethicnSet it deep into the earth, work and serve, all the rest let itnCome or not, hot summer sun, son – bumper cropnOver night, or so some thought (now they're talkin' that)nnWhat you really did to get this windfall, spendin' all year estranged?nBetter not be mystical, typically the criminals here they hangnAint nobody ever seen you cultivate, rake or till, ya dig?nTake a lot to win a pot, wanna pay the rate? The stakes raised, you bid?nIn or out, what the men around here 'bout, finna count a pound of cheese nDouble down, you intend to win the prize, otherwise bounce and leavenWe don't care where you came from, since day one seen the game constructed nWe gon' watch it all fall, frauds claim to save it in the name of love? Nuh uh.nnBubble, fizz – what the trouble is?nThis is hustle biz – what the trouble is?nA couple kids – what the trouble is?nMuzzle ripped, tell 'em what the trouble is, come on nownnTrouble is love don't want you, boy, see thenTrouble is love don't want you, baby, see thenTrouble is love don't want you, no, see thenTrouble is love don't want you herennNot one to gamble, lit the Camel, took a long dragnSat back and blew, inside he knew these folks had gone madnThrough the smoke proposed a wager: tails, you can take my fieldsnHeads, you accept my station; they deliberated, deal!nCoin turned for what seemed like eternity, slow breathnSome folks wept and fretted while the peasant never broke a sweatnConfident he had 'em in the talisman's descentnBy the time they shouted TAILS, he done packed his bags and wentnnBest never try to test the vets, you wanna settle? Better pay your duesnTo the boss you done lost your crops, in one toss I'll take your foodnBetter be gone, set about and keep on a boulevard towards the boatnEver come back get about a ton of that d-CON down your throatnIn the meantime we find these fine fruits do quench a thirstnAnd for pay we may persuade and convince some of these men to worknIn the end we sup and supplement the income caught in the trapnWe must be blessed, best of all – that farmer's gone, thank God for thatnnDouble-dipped – what the trouble is?nThat's hustle biz – what the trouble is?nA couple kids – what the trouble is?nKnuckle, fist, tell 'em what the trouble is, come on nownnTrouble is love don't want you, boy, see thenTrouble is love don't want you, baby, see thenTrouble is love don't want you, no, see thenTrouble is love don't want you heren