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ludacris - coming 2 america lyrics

the royal p-n-s is clean your highness
thank you, king sh-t

yeah motherf-ckers! welcome to the united states of america.
time to roll out the red carpet on y’all b-tch -sses.
hailin 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
n-gg-‘s earring. luda throw some grapes on these b-tches!

[ludacris]
these b-tches throwin rose petals at my feet mayn!
they wanna spoil me, treatin me like royalty;
what i’m ‘sposed to do? it’s such a sweet thang
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 p-ss 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 testin 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 b-mped up to first cl-ss
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 n-gg- ‘cris man, for real man. i’m tired of
this sh-t man. man i try to rap for the n-gg-, i try to get
a n-gg- tracks; he ain’t hearin my sh-t. man for real.
man my four-year-old son can rap better than that n-gg-;
man that n-gg- garbage. man i got talent too, the n-gg- ain’t
hearin me. man iii-iiiis this sh-t on? ‘cris, c’mon ‘cris.
‘cris, f’real man. f-ck you n-gg-, man f-ck you!

[ludacris]
f-ck you too! what you wanna do, scrawny n-gg-
but i got a -rs-nal of automatics down to twenty-twos
know how to use ’em, fight dirty as sh-t
i throw a grenade and all-in-one bury a clique
you see y’all got it all wrong like women in tuxedos
and comin 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 divin in bays at montego
i find gold links and sn-tch ’em like i’m deebo
but i’m the light-skinteted version of mandingo
i’ve seen more beatles and jagged edges than ringo
i used to run numbers in line they caled me bingo
cause i’m big, you a little star, you just twinkle
old -sses 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 f’real – yaseei’msayin? ha ha i be
f-ckin with him all the time, yahhmean? i’m sayin, 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 woulda sold him a coupe (? ) we coulda played with,
yaseewhati’msayin?

[ludacris]
yeah, can i get a little hit of that, little n-gg- with a bigga sack
see piece of the bigger trap look at that god be rollin 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’
makin 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 n-gg- stop, drop, roll – oh no where the beat go?
bring that, sh-t back, didn’t wanna 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? motherf-ckers it’s poppa bear
stop and stare; pourin out a lil’ gasoline and then drop a flare
come on, fire! and you know i can’t stop ’til i re-tire!
oh no, we stay swoll, rollin on vogue tires!
right down the avenue, p-ssin you rapidly stackin
in the back of the cadillac and packin emergency action
camera, light lights, throwin a punch and then fight fight
packin a lunch and then bite bite, a-t-l stay tight tight

i’m just tryin to save ya shorty. i’ma let you know
it’s real down heah. 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 dat where dem
real n-gg-z at. i ain’t lyin when you in decatur and you flossin
down clintwood, cambleton road or (? ) boulder to shave!
cause dat where dem real n-gg-z at. when you’re goin down that
ol’ nat hill and you p-ss dat second waffle house ‘fore you get
to the rich n-gg-z daaang, cause dat where dem real n-gg-z at!
matter of fact, just shave when ya get to georgia n-gg-.

- ludacris lyrics

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