Search results for get the f back by ludacris

We've found 1,085 lyrics, 52 artists, and 100 albums matching get the f back by ludacris:

the beat go?
Bring that, s*** back, didn't want to hear that, clik-clak
Tons of fun with guns
F*** all the lil' chit-chat get back get that get that
So I'm just sitting in this rehab class
Trying to get myself unhooked on ass
So then my teacher asked me a question
Like Ludacris are you over there
Hit G spots by givin hoes back shots
I'm a young country boy, long socks with flip flops
But I pull up on your block in the 500 Benz drop
A$AP get like me
Never met a mother f***er fresh like me
All these motherf***ers wanna dress like me
Put the chrome to your dome make you Sweat
*** friends
I need a homie that know me
When all these motherf***in' cops be on me
I got problems ain't nobody calling back
Now what the f*** is happenin'
I don't get upset
I kick a hole in the speaker, pull the plug, then I jet
Back to the lab, without a mic to grab
So then I add all the rhymes I had
of the night

It's inevitable and incredible, listen, it's Luda!

By the end of the night you goin' be wanting to marry a nigga
Cause I make 'em
that cut up
In the back of the club with purple in the back crying
Twis' and Ludacris get f***ed up


Pass me the..
Let me smoke my..
oodles of noodles
And testing me is like pitbulls put up to poodles
My rap career goes back further than yo' father hairline
It's Ludacris, I pack more
[Chorus: x2 Ludacris]
If you a lame motherfucker, get yo' ass out!
I'm from the A, I came to party 'til I pass out!
So if you with me and you
[Chorus: x2 Ludacris & DMX]
Bet a hundred (bet a hundred) bet a thousand (bet a stack)
Bet a million (put yo' money where yo' mouth is)
A get your hands in the air, and get to clappin 'em
And like, back and forth because ah
This is, what you thought it wasn't
It beez,
A get your hands in the air, and get to clappin 'em
And like, back and forth because ah
This is, what you thought it wasn't
It beez,
my live niggas hit up at your door, let's go)
(Front to the back door, say) We F'd up!
(Chicago, Philly, San Diego) We F'd up!
(Brooklyn, Saint
it's seven today
Ludacris in the back of your Chev-e-rolet
Ahh, ahh! What's my name?
So magical I come and touch the game
You motherfuckers really
I done killed so many niggaz in the booth I sell rappers on ebay,
Soldiers couldn't cause more disaster on D-Day,
Haters better cover
get seen
I'm a Dirty Bird now but I keep shit clean
I rip meanface niggas one by one
Or two by two, I'll take 'em however they come

Look here!
Now I'm a man of many talents and a man of my word
But on my path to see the light sometimes my vision gets blurred
It's all a part
Beast the nick, but my cannon go...

F*** a medic, we gon' call yo a** a taxi cab
Bleedin so hard you'll need a life size maxi pad
So flip
n**** ain't no Turnin Back
Where the f*** my hoes at who I pimp hard when they want to get to a tap 
But you know you can do dat that luv I'm just hear
the bu-bubbling back of your waistline
I don't waste time, gotta GET GET ON IT
Just you and me, two glasses, sip on Patron and
in the club scene where I met Ms.
We rollin' on twenties, with the top back
So much money, you can't stop that

Now where'd you get that platinum chain with them diamonds in it?
[Bridge: Ludacris (Bone Crusher) - 4X]
Get back and putcha life on the line (tell em)
Get back and putcha life on the line
Break bread nigga
Yeah yeah
Get your hands up against the wall and spread them
Opposition I'll just take him
F*** you (f*** you) f*** you (f*** you)
turn ya books to page 69 and start sucking
When Organized drop the tracks then start ducking
When Ludacris get in the bed start fucking
You wanna be