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фотография Ludacris

Название :

Cry Babies (Oh No)

Данные: текст песни / слова песни

Жанры :    rap   hip-hop   dirty south   hip hop   ludacris

Видео: Ludacris -  Cry Babies (Oh No)  

[Chorus: Ludacris - repeat 2X]
(Oh No!) I caught him with a blow to the chest
(Oh No!) My hollow put a hole in his vest
(Oh No!) I`m bout to send two to his dome
(Oh No!) Cry babies go home!

[Verse One: Ludacris]
I got people scared as FUCK like when condoms break
Or how your heart deals with eatin` eighty pounds of steak
So put your belly on a plate and watch your weight
You frostin` like a flake and Ludacris feels grrreat!
Who want come face me, face come want who?
And women give me face until they`re face turns blue
They can`t breathe, dick to mouth recessatation
A tight squeeze witch stops the length to conversations
I Playstations, duck cops and lose agents
I`m Doctor Love, I close curtains and fuck patients
When I kick and rip and flip an indespensable rhyme
My black ass is so hungry I`ll take a bite out of crime
And it`ll hurt if I swallow, but even more if I choke
Neighbors called the fire station off the blunt that I smoke
You see I crush cowards, funerals I`ll send flowers
And I`m on the overpass flick pennies at rush hour

[Chorus]

[Verse Two: Ludacris]
You see I`m ambidextrous I slap ass with both hands
Delete your first steps, but I`ll save the last dance
I just bought some new guns my mama said "it ain`t worth it"
But I`m at the shooting range just `cause practice makes perferct
Bullseye, I stunt growth and stop lives
You run with niggas that`s more chicken then pot pies
Bok bok bok I`m shakin your tale feathers
I got big balls, I`m a SAC King like Chris Webber
Luda` will take you back to duck hunt and double dribble
When niggas sold quarters and dimes and smoked nickels
My cars got big TVs and satellites
I got a Wheel of Fortune `cause I flipped O`s like Vanna White
And the servey says? (Kill a mutha fucka now)
Could it be off with his head? (Or shoot a mutha fucka down)
Ground round, ground chuck your ground beef
Bullets gather round then I shoot rounds around teeth

[Chorus]

[Verse Three: Ludacris]
I kick niggas in they`re ass reboot `em like laptops
And they wouldn`t even box if I gave `em a flat top
You punks pucker and pout, bicker and babble
Now they all lost for words like I beat `em in Scrabble
You see I`m from a small town called "Fresh out a cop`s ass"
Where Mr. Head-Potatoes are skinned they get mashed
I smell puss from fifty yards
Y`all not playin with full decks as if I jacked out ya Jacks and left fifty cards
Catch me in Vegas spinnin` the green
I re-up with more chips than a vending machine
Then you can catch me in Rome, mackin` some broads and stickin` `em
And you`ll be at home picking your bougars and flicking `em
A drug dealer`s dream, so fresh and I`m so clean
I`m a grown ass man and you`re sweeter than sixteen
So go and kick rocks peons you`re just rookies
Headed down stairs to get you some milk and cookies

[Chorus] - 2X
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