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Ludacris
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You Got A Problem
Yeah, come see this nigga Come see this ol' light-skinned motherfucker I seen him and I'm addicted Disturbin' Tha Piece is the click Please tell these fake-ass niggaz who you are
I be dat nigga named Luda' Alert Alert! It's the ATLlien intruder College Park waterboy, spit in the c-cooler I Jam till they Def, they call me Slick Dick Da Ruler
Women indeed, keep ya eyes closed, keep yo' eyes closed 'Bow blows, come on out dem clothes hos, low pros, low bows Watch out for the po-po and I chose to be dat numba one contender Southern offender, fuckin' up ya whole agenda
When I walk you try to run, when I run you try to hide You skate at the snap of my fingers call me Golden Glide Its you and I, do or die, who am I? I got a pocket full of family stone, cats think I'm sly
Ohh why try? You one of dem niggaz that like to cheat death And I'm one of dem niggaz that rip out excursions 'til there's no seats left You shit out wheat chex, and fart out deep breaths While we toss darts at the bottom of y'all V-necks
Who, that nigga 'Cris? Aw dat nigga is aight Dat nigga can't fuck wit' me though Let me get on the mic Nigga, who the fuck are you nigga?
I be dat nigga Bronze Bridges Playaz wanna ball but go on strike 'cause of my pitches They think I want they be-itches But I don't want no pigeons yet pigeons can scrub my dishes
And y'all don't want no scrubs til y'all pull out y'all extensions Y'all in school detention that'll neva come out Man I'll cut yo Achilles Tendon and put a sock in yo' mouth 'Cause we da shit in the South, they know what I'm talkin' 'bout
You see we Jack and we Daniels, y'all Earl and Ralph 更多更詳盡歌詞 在 ※ Mojim.com 魔鏡歌詞網 4-Ize twirl it out, lick it dry and tend it to flames Not even Joshua can come to war wit' dese games These bitch niggaz is lame and come down wit da reigns
You all wet behind the ears but its a drought in ya brain And that's the simple and plain mayne, threeWdot Man that dude Luder's got some hotter than hot Well sh-sh-sh-shut the fuck up, before you get cu-cu-cut-cut the fuck up
Hold on man, hold on lil buddy Y'all talkin' 'bout shorty man? Shorty up at da radio station? Shorty be poppin' man? Let the name be known who y'all talkin' 'bout
I be dat nigga da Lova Lova I'm nastier than thinkin' about yo' parents sex each other No glove, no love, betta tell yo' dick to run for cover So when lightnin' strikes, you can be safe on a few rubbers
If you know what I mean, not everybody's Mr and Mrs. Clean Some get burnt like Freddie Kruger, sweat dreams Girls, 'Backin' dey ass up' now they 400 Degreez, ha Hot girl, tryin' to give to niggaz up on the block girl Have you screamin', 'Stop girl'
I rock worlds with my nine inch Louisville slugga Still wonder why they call me Lova Lova? Self-explanitorium, ass-valedictorian I bring 'em 'Back to the Future' like a '85 Delorean
The Luda drug emporium, on the counter prescriptions You like my diction and my doctor nurse convention I place the stethoscope, quite close to yo tittie And have yo butt cheeks Red-man like Uncle Quilly
See me, see me, CEO, D.T.P. Infamous 2-0, Fate Forsta 4-ize-zy, Shondrez-zy on da beat Playa Circle to ya boy, College Park nigga Virgo nigga, what wha?
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