You Got A Problem? - Ludacris
Yeah come see this nigga Come see this ol' light-skinned mothafucka I seen him and I'm addicted Disturbin tha peace is the click Please tell these fake ass niggas who you are [ludacris] I be dat nigga named luda' Alert alert it's the atllien intruder College park waterboy, spittin in tha c-cooler I jam till they deaf, they call me slick dick da ruler Women indeed, keep ya eyes closed 'bow blows, come out dem clothes hoe 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 skated the snap of my finger Call me golden gley Its you and I, do or die, who am i? I got a pocket full of family stones, cats think I'm sly Oh why try, you one of dem niggaz that like to cheat death And I'm one of dem niggaz that rip up excursions Til there is 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 -skit Who? Dat nigga cris? Oh dat nigga is aight Dat nigga can't fuck wit me thou Let me get on da mic Nigga, who da fuck are you nigga [ludacris] I be dat nigga bronze bridges Playaz wanna ball or go on strike cause of my pitches They think I want they bitches But I don't want no pigeons Yet pigeons can scrub my dishes And ya'll don't want no scrubs till ya'll pull out ya'll extensions Ya'll in school detention that'll neva come out Man i'll catch 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 4-ize twirl it out, lick it dry and tend it to flames Not even joshua can come to +war+ wit this +games+ These bitch niggaz is lame and come down wit da reigns You all wet behind da ears but its a drought in ya brain And dats tha simple and plain man Three w dot shhhh (man dat dude luder's got some hotter than hot shhh) Well sh-sh-sh-shut da fuck up Before you get cu-cu-cut-cut da fuck up -hold on man Hold on lil buddy Ya'll talkin bout shorty man Shorty up at da radio station man? Shorty be poppin man? Man, let the name be known Who ya'll talkin bout [ludacris] I be dat nigga dat lova lova I'm nastier than thinkin about yo' parents s** each other No glove, no love, betta tell yo dick to run for cover So when lightening strikes, you can be safe on a few rubbers If you know what I mean Not everybody is mr and mrs. Clean Some get burnt like freddie kruger, sweat dreams Girls backin dey ass up now they 400 degrees ha Hot girl, tryin to give to niggaz up on da block girl Have you screamin "stop girl" I rock worlds with my 9 inch louieville slugga Still wonder why they call me lova lova Self explainatruim Ass valedictorian I bring 'em back to da future like a '85 delorium Da luda drug emporium On da counter prescription You like my diction And my doctor nurse convention I put da stethoscope quite close to yo tittie Have yo butt checks red-man like uncle quilly [ludacris] *talking See me, see me Ha ha ha C e o D t p Infamous 2-0 Fate forsta 4-ize-zy Shondrez-zy on da beat Playa circle to ya boy Icollege park nigga Virgo nigga, what wha Ahh ahh ahh....
Artist: Ludacris
Title: You Got A Problem?