Lyrics:
Stand by me my sister stand by me now
Having my days and I've seen your ways
Sing it and have it set a nasty craze
So I reach a state
Turn a new page
bun b had us throwed
Pimp C told us it was big pimping
Ludacris said move but I was still tipping
Big Hawk had us swinging on them boys
R.I.P. screw big
From the power bestowed upon me
By the third coast
Deep in the trenches of Atlanta
Where they learned most
You never heard before flows
This extra
to get rich
All them haters get back cause I feel like Ludacris
Ima shoot my shot and you know I never miss
Cant stop won't stop I'm addicted to the shift
yo, if the rap game is whack, everybody's blamin you
you from brooklyn? then biggie must be ashamed of you
cause I'ma freestyle, show you how it is
It's been a long while
Since I hit ya with freestyle
High tech selections
From the vaults of the Ice files
Kick back relax
And watch as I melt wax
And while I see his whole clique pass us by
Motherfuckers think they qualify
And for those niggas want to try
The G.O.D., the G.O.D
Yo
I'm not caught up in
I stagger in the gathering possessed by a patter-in
That be scattering
Over the global my vocals be traveling unraveling my abdomen
It's slime
to the sound properly laid and mixed down
By no other than my brother, although from different mother
J. Rawls with Sands on the mic, so take cover
The sound
before
To see the idea clear it takes a year or more
Now times that by the years I reign straight-seven
No hear for four years still multiplied by
o Ciebie"
Tłumaczyłem jej z godzinę by nie wkurzyła się mocniej
Czasem serio wstyd mi jest za to że jestem freestyle'owcem
Na imprezie w sklepie w
before that I'm in a mood
I said before that I'm hungry
I'm going ludacris you better move
Everyone looking like lunch meat
I really thought you know you
Sometimes you got to grab shit by the root
Never been a would nigga i am not groot
Niggas gas themselves like poot
I be hip hopping to the pouch. roo
a Tech9nine Skeme
Westside Gunna Butchered by Benny Freddie
Was a runna with Kung Fu Kenny
Organized Konfusion of a Freestyle Fellowship
Jedi Mind Tricks
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, lil nigga get back
You gotta know all my niggas wit dat
Don't cross the line if you ain't got shit to back it
Know a nigga stole my style if he mix
by email
But that's all I'ma save you the detail
Therapy with a beat and a freestyle
Either way, live today, I'ma be well
'Cause I never wanna let
Sassoon, chrome tones hear the moans of Al Capone
Gun POW to the dome
And split the bone, wig blown off the ledge
By the alleged, full-fledged, sledge RZA
Battleground all in my head
Head
Broken boat and I can't swim
Weighed down by my sins
Again and again
So where to begin
Lost motivation
Lots of scary thoughts
Russell Wilson, Ludacris with the features
Except it's Yung Tok through the speakers
Line after line after line go Adidas
Damn you a geeker
Pockets full
beneath my wings
When the miracle spittin' there shall be no witnesses to the pain
And my ignorance, I charge to the game
So many love and slain by
Looting our home being ludacris bullies, My
Words-bullets, I'm fully aware of what you creeps
Are doing thought nobody cared
But it's you who is blinded
this since temp fades
Anything steerin' me off the track is in the way
So move, bitch, losin' my lil' fate would be ludacris
I'm on I-20, slidin'
Said I don't freestyle for the free
Bitch pay me uh yeah
Said I don't freestyle for the free
Bitch pay me uh yeah
I been tryna get away get away
.jpg/204px-Ludacris_2008_(cropped).jpg "Ludacris")
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