Coming 2 America

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Christopher Brian Bridges (born September 11, 1977), better known by his stage name Ludacris, is an American rapper, entrepreneur and actor. Along with his manager, Chaka Zulu, Ludacris is the co-founder of Disturbing tha Peace, an imprint distributed by Def Jam Recordings. Ludacris has won a Screen Actors Guild, Critic's Choice, MTV, and three Grammy Awards during his career. Along with fellow Atlantans Big Boi and Andre 3000 of OutKast, Ludacris was one of the first and most influential Dirty South artists to achieve mainstream success. more »


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The royal penis is clean your highness
Thank you, king shit

Yeah motherfuckers! Welcome to the United States of America.
Time to roll out the red carpet on y'all bitch asses.
Hailing from the filthy, dirty South, where the Kings lay.
Ludacris, Disturbin' Tha Peace family. Recognize royalty
When you hear it. The throne has been taken, so kiss this
Nigga's earring, Luda throw some grapes on these bitches!

These bitches throwing rose petals at my feet man!
They want to spoil me, treating me like royalty,
What I'm supposed to do? It's such a sweet thing
Work that track, whip 'em like Kunta
That's why they stay down, they loyal citizens of Zamunda
By way of A-T-L, if you disagree
Don't even look at me ho don't pass go just go straight to jail
With no probation or bail, but this ain't Monopoly
It's Jolly Green Giants cause we smoke so much broccoli
Uh-oh, Spaghetti-O's! Luda's 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 nuts than Delta Airlines
I'm fly, even when I get high I work cash
And even got my coats bumped up to first class
I'm boss to all employees, and I'm here to teach the principle
Cause I've been saved by mo' bells than Lark Vorhees

Man f*ck that nigga 'Cris man, for real man.
I'm tired of this shit man.
Man I try to rap for the nigga,
I try to get a nigga tracks,
He ain't hearing my shit.
Man for real.
Man my four-year-old son can rap better than that nigga,
Man that nigga garbage.
Man I got talent too, the nigga ain't hearin me.
Man is this shit on? 'Cris, c'mon 'Cris.
'Cris, f'real man.
F*ck you nigga, man f*ck you

F*ck you too! What you want to do, scrawny nigga
But I got a arsenal of automatics down to twenty-twos
Know how to use 'em, fight dirty as shit
I throw a grenade and all-in-one bury a clique
You see y'all got it all wrong like women in tuxedos
And coming up shorter than five Danny DeVitos
I'm on a cool ranch, get laid more than Fritos
With five strippers, four wives and three amigos
I go scuba diving in Bays at Montego
I find gold links and snatch 'em like I'm Deebo
But I'm the light-skinned version of Mandingo
I've seen more Beatles and Jagged Edges than Ringo
I used to run numbers in line they called me bingo
Cause I'm big, you a little star, you just twinkle
Old asses like sharpeis, y'all all wrinkled
And I stay with more bullets than yo' Billboard singles

Ho that is just too much! You just gotta give applause
He is definitely all foreal, ya see what I'm saying? Ha ha I be
Fucking with him all the time, ya know what I mean? I'm saying, I used
To just now home come through he want filters a purple,
He want quarters a purple now. I want y'all to trip with it
Man, I would of sold him a Coupe we could of played with,
Ya see what I'm sayin'?

Yeah, can I get a little hit of that, little nigga with a bigga sack
See piece of the bigger trap look at that God be rolling on that
Where they kick it at? And a lot of people just don't know
Shady Park you heard just don't go
Quick to flip the bird up po'-po'
Making the way for that rodeo, that rodeo show!
Gotta hit 'em with a reload, I gotta put 'em with the people
I gotta make a nigga stop, drop, roll, oh no where the beat go?
Bring that, shit back, didn't want to hear that, clik-clak
Tons of fun with guns
F*ck all the lil' chit-chat get back get that get that
Who knows, who goes there? Motherfuckers it's Poppa Bear
Stop and stare, pouring out a lil' gasoline and then drop a flare
Come on, fire! And you know I can't stop 'til I retire!
Oh no, we stay swoll, rolling on Vogue tires!
Right down the avenue, passing you rapidly stacking
In the back of the Cadillac and packing emergency action
Camera, light lights, throwing a punch and then fight fight
Packing a lunch and then bite bite, A-T-L stay tight tight

I'm just trying to save ya shorty.
I'ma let you know it's real down here.
When you ride down that two-eighty-five,
And you go past Kincaid, get ready to go past that Cambleton Road
Fo' you get it cut free shorty just shave;
Cause that where them real niggas at.
I ain't lying when you in Decatur and you flossing
Down Clintwood, Cambleton Road or Boulder to shave!
Cause that where them real niggas at.
When you're going down that ol' Nat Hill and you pass that
Second waffle house 'fore you get
To the rich niggas dang, cause that where them real niggas at!
Matter of fact, just shave when ya get to Georgia nigga.

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Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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