Chords for J. Cole - Problems

_ _ _ Yeah. _ _
[B] Uh-uh, uh-uh, uh-uh.
Da-dum, [G#] da-da, da-da, da-da. _ _ _
[C#m] Yeah. _ _ _ _ _ _
[B] Uh-uh, uh-uh.
_ Hey.
Hey.
[E] Hey.
Dear Mrs.
Bill Collector, I know you're just doing your job.
Don't mean to disrespect you, but [B] we've
been going [G#] through this thing since way back.
I told you when I'd get the dough, I would pay back,
but I [C#m] got problems, baby.
Yeah.
_ I got [B] bigger problems, baby.
Yeah.
Hey, so why you talking [E] about the money that I owe?
Like as if I didn't know, man, it don't mean nothing to me.
Cause right now I [B] got my little [G#] boy crying and my grandmother dying.
Could you please stop fucking with me?
Listen, here, [C#m] I ain't looking for no tears, but my brother got a year and my mama keeps smoking that shit.
On top of [B] that, I'm broke.
Please put that in your notes for the next one to call me up talking that shit.
And then I [E] holla. _ _ _ _ _ _ _
[B] _ [G#] _ _ _ _ _ _ _
[C#m] _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
[B] _ _ Yeah. _ _ _ _
[E] Hey, dear Mr.
Policeman.
Hey, am I wrong?
Ain't you supposed to keep the peace, man?
I [B] could have swore [G#] that I was driving pretty peaceful.
So why the hell is you pulling over me for?
[C#m] Is it this black Mercedes?
_ Oh, no, I get it.
I get it.
[B] Cause I'm black, baby.
_ _ _ Yeah.
Hey, tell me [E] why my hands start sweating and I hold my breath.
Every time that you get behind me, I turn my [B] music down [G#] so you won't hear sound.
Man, I'm nervous like I got a couple pounds on me.
You pull [C#m] me over.
You frown on me with your flashlight.
Tell me, what do you see?
Thug niggas, [B] drug dealers.
It's a trip.
Every nigga in this whip got a motherfucking college degree.
And then.
[E] _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
[B] _ [G#] _ _ _ _ _ _ _
[C#m] _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
[B] _ _ _ _ Yeah, my middle finger to the law.
[E] I'm busting off trying to fuck with Scott.
My teacher said impossible, but I'm a fucking try.
But I [B] won't tell me [G#] he'll make the rules.
This nigga's dying every day.
Man, we'll make the news.
Instead, they talk [C#m] about some thunderstorm cyclones.
Timmy got his bike stole.
Top story.
Like it would be fucking all these white [B] hoes.
Anchorman stops snitching.
Cut the commercial.
He be texting all the side bitches.
Hey, my [E] goodness.
How ironic.
I'll drop a possession of Sopranic.
My lawyer came to court.
He was hiding in the [B] comment.
Hey, your honor, [G#] is you kidding?
How you sit above me?
Are you perfect?
Motherfucker, how you finna judge me?
[C#m] When you home, you don't cut, shrink, and puff like us.
These cops is bad boys, baby, just like Puck.
[B] They hate their jobs, and they be fucked up like us.
At the end of the day, you niggas just like [E] us.
You niggas just like us.
Yeah. _ _
[B] _ [G#] _ _ _ _ _ _ _
[C#m] _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
[B] _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
[E] _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
[G#] _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
[C#m] _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
[B] _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
[E] _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
[B] _ [G#] _ _ _ _ _ _ _
[C#m] _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
[B] _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _