Lyrics:
sweet from the
Thighs to the cheek
Sex on the beach
Check the size of my meat
Call me the butcher
Ludacris King Ding-a-Ling
Sheet smusher
Sweet
Soldiers where you at
Where the fuck you at
Time to put Puna on the map
On the map, look
They sleeping on me let em nap
Shhh if you talk so loud
This
Soldiers where you at
Where the fuck you at
Time to put Puna on the map
On the map, look
They sleeping on me let em nap
Shhh if you talk so loud
This
Soldiers where you at
Where the fuck you at
Time to put Puna on the map
On the map, look
They sleeping on me let em nap
Shhh if you talk so loud
This
with some game trying to get ends
If it don't make dollars don't make sense
I'm just a playa with some game trying to get ends
Master P:
Tryin'
To talk to y'all about celebrity chicks
So Ching-a-ling, why don't you go ahead
And start this thing off for, what up?
From the moment she wake up, so
To talk to y'all about celebrity chicks
So Ching-a-ling, why don't you go ahead
And start this thing off for, what up?
From the moment she wake up, so
P-I-M-P
I don't know what you heard about me
But a bitch can't get a dollar out of me
No Cadillac, no perms, you can't see
That I'm a motherfucking
HOOK:
Move to the top, Boy, Walkin' By The Spirit
Cannot be no flop boy, preach through that lyric
We gon show em Milly Rock Boy, YOu gon' have
I don't know what you heard about me
But a bitch can't get a dollar out of me
No Cadillac, no perms, you can't see
That I'm a motherfuckin' P-I-M-P
I
Baba i dey watch my time
Abeg i need the ap
This guy never make am nah
Tell me wetin him gain like ad
Don't tell me to chat you up
I just Want to top
Soaring through the clouds, smell of mary and she by my side (by my side)
We gon be the
Talk of the town, this is the start of the crown
I was ignored by
Gettin', gettin' some head
I was gettin' some head
Gettin', gettin' some head
I was with the kinda girl that make ya toes pop
I was gettin' some head
Jackson the P won't quit
I'd rather be judged by 12 than carried by 6
Don't make me act a fool (What!)
Don't make me act a fool (What!)
Don't make me
Jackson the P won't quit
I'd rather be judged by 12 than carried by 6
Don't make me act a fool (What!)
Don't make me act a fool (What!)
Don't make me
sweet from the
Thighs to the cheek
Sex on the beach
Check the size of my meat
Call me the butcher
Ludacris King Ding-a-Ling
Sheet smusher
Sweet
Ludacris, some call me Mr. Wiggles
Far from little, make ya mammary glands giggle
Got 'em under control, the bowl of tender biddles
Doc-tor giggles, I can't
baby rub on ya nipples
Some call me Ludacris, some call me Mr. Wiggles
Far from little, make ya mammary glands giggle
Got 'em under control, the bowl
baby rub on ya nipples
Some call me Ludacris, some call me Mr. Wiggles
Far from little, make ya mammary glands giggle
Got 'em under control, the bowl
the music industry man.
Ludacris and field mob,
Mouth to mic resuscitation.
Lets go.
can you handle it?
Eight away, bang in the back with the woofer
by the blocks
The rest go with the rocks (clean)
Many buys them bulks of weed
Cause money makes them talk ( mm hmm )
Now they run with the opps
Pocket full of money (we rollin')
P-p-p-pocket full of money, yeah
Y'all niggas fake as fuck
Lipstick on my collar, I couldn't make this up
I live in
breakfast Captain crunch
African food like okra and fufu have some lunch
Imma fill you up like full tank bruv
Saved by grace thru faith that's luv
Im after p
of the hip-hop tip grills your dome
You're toe ingrown low showin' you ain't got nobody home
Prone to the microphone, light up, and take out
Make out your will
.jpg/204px-Ludacris_2008_(cropped).jpg "Ludacris")
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