Lyrics:
lil' bum nigga
You walk around ya house in an
Old Versace robe wit' one slipper
Made an album called Split Personalities
Until I smack them all back into
Definition, gangsta, hustla, you know
We make money, we eat, we feed
Pay attention, bitch
Uhh, yeah, come on
Uhh, uhh, make some room
Dogg House, you
parts with his parts out, and
Then he just laid his shit down
And it was great by then went to
'Ye house, played it for him, he
Was like, 'cool' wayne
of day, the name my second album (yeah)
The sun go down, it's like a monster just came out him
Yeah
I just wanna chill and tuck off with a bad one
on
Y'all are wrong
I'm not off to start a war with T-1000
Bout to shout in a crowded live house and louden my rap
The doubters be drowning in my saliva
public school too
Like what's in between a 3 and 1 and House Gang, I spoke to all 3 on 1 call
Like I dropped 2 albums and #3 is 1 second from bein' done
fucked me up, the hater side was the most crowded
I don't claim clicka, but I do be around it
And when I leave the house, I don't never leave without it
I
up to the crib
You dribble on yo bib
Yo house look like a kip
Flexing on you with the drip ay
I'm a misfit
Get on the beat and throw a fit
Pull up
(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
First She Eat Her, Then She Ate Me, Then
You Fuck Her, Then She Pay Me
Call It Pimpin
But You Ain't Got A Pimp Bone In yeah
If You See A Bad Bitch Go
of plastic pumps for the after party
Yo, by the way, go get my album
Damn
Millze cillzan sillzome plilzay dilzzouble dilzutch
Hilzzoo?
My gizzirl
of plastic pumps for the after party
Yo, by the way, go get my album
Damn
Millze cillzan sillzome plilzay dilzzouble dilzutch
Hilzzoo?
My gizzirl
your rap
I'm out here, gettin hoes livin fat
While you at home, gettin sweated by your mamma
I bought my mother a house in Atlanta
And you can't
workin' on nigga? (Um, you know, I got Curren$y album)
(And quietly workin' on my album, ya dig?)
Oh, I'm ready to brush my shoulders off and drop my next
you at home, gettin' sweated by your mama
I bought my mother a house in Atlanta
And you can't stand it, so what do you say
Too $hort can't rap, no
am is simply a black revolutionary
I write rhymes on plain stationary
Mary, Mary, quite contrary
Doesn't make sense in my vocabulary
Uncle Tom house
promoted
Moved out my momma house but still
This music was the motive
Around this time I'm bumpin'
Tunnel Rats and CMR but Lil' Jon was on the
Radio
Woke up on this morning and I feel good
Saw myself inside the mirror, damn I look good
Check just hit my bank, I'm bout to eat realgood
Catching me
didn't have to try
She brought a eye on my eye in a crowded club
I tried to stare the girl down, but she didn't budge
She moved through the crowd in
Ah-ah, I never saw so many people tonight
I mean y'all all got it crowded up in here and that's good
I'm glad that y'all givin' it up for him,
the house
And you gon' have to pay me homie, I'm not leavin' this couch
Baby it's cold outside, we just sittin' by the fire
While the little duns is playing
of the streets (I know)
Live bad to die good
Know how to move when hustlin' by the days with no food
But just so I can eat (fuck)
And ain't it a bitch
And if
of the streets (I know)
Live bad to die good
Know how to move when hustlin' by the days with no food
But just so I can eat (fuck)
And ain't it a bitch
And if
yeah
My strap is black and hot like coffee, yeah
I'm goin' fast, you can't stop me, yeah
Heard your album, break weed on a copy, yeah
I used to want
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