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ludacris - throw it up lyrics

[intro: busta rhymes]
yea i’m back to drive you craz
with the hottest sh-t in the streets, no if’s, and’s, or maybe’s
errbody gather around from here to little haiti
cuz it’s busta (luda) and (young weezy baby)
with flip mode and dtp, sh-t be gettin’ ugly
weezy tell ’em what you rep (i represent young money)
yea i know you got me homie (busta, bust i got you)
real talk (i’m goin’ in)
get ’em k!llaaa

[verse 1: lil wayne]
i’m about to blast off call it rocket science
daddy fat stacks check my pocket size
and if ya wanna try it, c’mon and try it
you don’t want beef, i’ll put you on a diet
i’m comin’ through ya house with them choppas firin’
and all adults die, leave the toddlers cryin’
i’ve been a soldier, never met private ryan
hey welcome to the jungle, and i’m the lion
i’m dippin’ in my coupe, with the top behind me
i’m not the president, but i see cops behind me
well f-ck ’em, f-ck ’em, f-ck ’em, and they can not stop me
so i will be drivin’ like ricky bobby
it’s my prerogative like whitney’s bobby
i’m skatin’ on blades like sidney crosby (that’s hockey)
sharper than a ginsu shawty
you not beyonce, but i can get you body

[chorus]
now you know what we about to do, we goin’ full throttle
n-ggas go and toss ya champagne, and throw a f-ckin’ bottle
throw it up (you know we got em)
throw it up (you know we got em)
throw it up (you know we got em)
throw it up (you know we got em)

[verse 2: ludacris]
i throw it up like a cap and t-ssel, i got my rap diploma
i throw it up like the gangs in southern california
i got them burners on ya, have you lookin’ at a russian ruger
i’ll be lookin’ like a human torch
then have you lookin’ like freddy krueger
so don’t be sleepin’ on me, this ain’t a f-ckin’ dream
i p-ss the rock to these jays like i’m on they f-ckin’ team
but i ain’t slangin’ dope, i slang luda-vision
hip-hop’s god in these jeans, now that’s true religion
you couldn’t fill my shoes, you couldn’t fill my jockey
my n-ggas fight over ice like we been playin’ hockey
i hope you get the goal, i hope you get the point
i’m on a roll with this paper, i hope you get the joint
i hope you fire it up, i hope it burn slow
i welcome chicks to my nest, i let these birds know
and eagles fly alone, so i’m about to take flight
and throw it up like ya girl’s dress on prom night

[chorus]

[verse 3: busta rhymes]
when i spit, n-ggas be askin’ “who dat” it be the god
and i know you n-ggas really wanna know how the h-ll i “do dat”
and the way that i come through
and k!ll every single thing when i rhyme
nevermind, n-ggas can’t compete when i spit a little beat same time
(bring the beat back) my fans will leave ya f-ckin’ -ss leakin’
for sayin’ you nicer than me, hypothetically speakin’
cool and dre bring the f-ckin’ beat back for no reason
(rewind it)
n-ggas know my rap and know me for always beastin’, ok
when they see me they stutta, n-ggas know where i’m from
scoon nu nu nu ba ba be, like the speakin’ in tongues
i single handedly move like a thousand n-ggas kick on
trample n-ggas like a heard of hippo’s (n-gga)
when i get hot i pop like oil, that’s when they call me crisco (b-tch)
that’s when i seek revenge like the count of monte cristo
crack n-ggas like nabisco, swallow a fifth for ‘sisco
a gangsta cat markin territory wherever the p-ss go
now that i’m p-ssy drunk, why the h-ll you wanna thug and holla
i’ll change that and have you consider studyin’ kabbalah (sh-t)
they nicknamed me kamala (hey), kinda like the ugandan giant
flatten n-ggas with my foot, who wanna try it

[chorus]

- ludacris lyrics

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