Lyrics:
Hey wait
Get the fuck up outta my face
Bitch you got a problem
Trust it's not a problem to put the AK to your face
Bitch you got a problem
Trust it's
might use it against them
C'mon, get Ludacris out! Blow it out ya ass!
If you mad I'm on top, then wish me gone
If you mad I'm on the road, then wish me
touch down"
I did that, made that, now I'm on my way
Just my luck, they know it's the Texas license plate
Now I got a problem, 'cause them
Bomb ass pussy
Bomb, oh, you got that bomb, know you got it
Bomb, oh, you got some bomb-ass pussy
Bomb, I know you got that bomb, bomb pussy
this... Come back wit it, ha ha ha ha, nasty Ludacris on the track with it, got enough ammo to blow you out of proportion and put a mutha****a on his back
ha ha ha, nasty Ludacris
On the track with it, got
Enough ammo to blow you out of proportion
And put a muthaa on his
Back wit it i'm so wrong, I'm
So
got me stir fried
These days I'm cool on fame
Don't want my problems being worldwide
Now I'm moving on Earl time
Peeping structure and ain't saying shit
on me
Cause I am the problem (problem problem)
Yea
The blinders have fallen
Messiah enlightened my heart
Im appalled by the nonsense and
All
your health
See I ain't gotta say shit, money speaks for itself
With all models I make I'm great like five lakes
You got rims on ya truck? Man I got
(Ludacris) Verse 1
I just touched down in killa Cali,
Strapped up my boots,
Got scooped up by Game,
So I hopped up in the coupe,
Gaah, What up
coconuts!
ARTHUR: What?
GUARD #1: You've got two empty halves of coconut and you're
bangin' 'em together.
ARTHUR: So? We have ridden since the snows
the blunt with my patna' dem
Fresh up on the scene looking
Clean with my patna' dem
Got a bag of kush and some
Beans from my patna' dem
Got a bad bitch super
808, cut sound
Ooh, phooey
Marvel, you a deadbeat
DJ Flair, make the money flare
I be in the trenches, we be snatchin' souls
I got killers who came
I got money they know I'm a problem
Had to get it wouldn't no other option
Ooo she bad you know she a problem
Check her swag her shoes designer
You
to eleven and its the service bruv
You get it
Like
Like half a life lived in eleven years
What
Yeah
I got problems
That was how he felt
Yeah I got problems
You don't want zero problems, big fella!
Yep!
If one more label try to stop me
It's gon' be some dread head niggas in ya lobby
You don't want
this... Come back wit it, ha ha ha ha, nasty Ludacris on the track with it, got enough ammo to blow you out of proportion and put a mutha****a on his back
I'm with
All about the moola man
You can call me Julius
Braided up like Ludacris
Breaded up like who is this
Breaded up like
You can call me
Consequence Problem they Outkast ya mane
Leaders Of The New School buss down the frame
Til you Blu in the face man so glad you came
Comptons Most Wanted had
Coast, Midwest never broke
I'm American, Midwestern roots, and if you got a problem with this song then
Fuck you, so stay woke
Bitch, Midwest never broke,
problems and I cannot solve em
Might trip on acid if I can't dissolve em
I'm on hella drugs and there ain't no stopping
I got hella plugs case you down for
Ludacris.
[Ludacris]
Abra cadabra, welcome to the Luda show
ladies feast your eyes on the great what it do you for
not much to hear me spit it how I live it
[Verse 1]
Been saying lately it's a waste of time
You got your problems babe and I got mine
I no that now we don't see eye to eye
You got your
me why he got mo money)
He make better music than you
(Tell me why all these bitches want this nigga)
Cause he fye, he make better music than you
.jpg/204px-Ludacris_2008_(cropped).jpg "Ludacris")
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