Song parody of
Rush
by Funkmaster Flex
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[Lady Luck]
Uhh, what
Lady Luck
Def Jam
Shutting the game down from the whip
To the tunnel
You in da club
Yo
Bang this
What ya'll gonna do when we rush the door
Buy out the bar then rush the floor (niggas)
Touch ya whore, I puff the raw
Push a four, wrist gonna crush ya jaw
Don't trust a broad who rocking the Timberlands
Criminal like Eminem don't act feminine
But talk slick and six hit your women friends
Ball like Wimbledon trucks like cinnamon
It's them again (who)
Niggas hotter then you
It's like cop car lights with my rocks in view
Pay homage to Luck a.k.a Chrissie Wallace
Chick about them dollars, be a queen like Hollis
Rockwilders, pop collars, glock hollers
At Any nigga out to stop ours
Cause we lug shots, mug shots, all at you blood clots
One spot, gunshots, get the body dem hot
(Chorus) x2
[A Kid Called Roots] (Lady Luck)
All my niggas and broads we rush the door (c'mon)
Grap your drinks and rush the floor (c'mon)
We keep it hot from wall to wall (c'mon)
From the front to the rear get it crunk in here (yo, yo, yo, yeah)
[Lady Luck]
I came in the door, said it before
Luck getting drunk till I fall to the floor
Come back for more, rock wall to wall
Ball till I score, then out by the morn
How I dip and ride that whip I drive
On I-95 getting he'd in the ride
Me and Root sipping Gin and The Juice
Jewelry to loose, jeans hang over my boots
You keep think that you bullet proof
Till I put to your head give it a sunroof
Good God, my whole squad hard
And bank accounts is large
Puff Chron--ic (*couching*) Stay in Phat Farm and Sean John
Chick shake yo ass like you want some cash
Nigga pump it fast like why
[Lady Luck]
Uhh, what
Lady Luck
Def Jam
Shutting the game down from the whip
To the tunnel
You in da club
Yo
Bang this
What ya'll gonna do when we rush the door
Buy out the bar then rush the floor (niggas)
Touch ya whore, I puff the raw
Push a four, wrist gonna crush ya jaw
Don't trust a broad who rocking the Timberlands
Criminal like Eminem don't act feminine
But talk slick and six hit your women friends
Ball like Wimbledon trucks like cinnamon
It's them again (who)
Niggas hotter then you
It's like cop car lights with my rocks in view
Pay homage to Luck a.k.a Chrissie Wallace
Chick about them dollars, be a queen like Hollis
Rockwilders, pop collars, glock hollers
At Any nigga out to stop ours
Cause we lug shots, mug shots, all at you blood clots
One spot, gunshots, get the body dem hot
(Chorus) x2
[A Kid Called Roots] (Lady Luck)
All my niggas and broads we rush the door (c'mon)
Grap your drinks and rush the floor (c'mon)
We keep it hot from wall to wall (c'mon)
From the front to the rear get it crunk in here (yo, yo, yo, yeah)
[Lady Luck]
I came in the door, said it before
Luck getting drunk till I fall to the floor
Come back for more, rock wall to wall
Ball till I score, then out by the morn
How I dip and ride that whip I drive
On I-95 getting he'd in the ride
Me and Root sipping Gin and The Juice
Jewelry to loose, jeans hang over my boots
You keep think that you bullet proof
Till I put to your head give it a sunroof
Good God, my whole squad hard
And bank accounts is large
Puff Chron--ic (*couching*) Stay in Phat Farm and Sean John
Chick shake yo ass like you want some cash
Nigga pump it fast like why
