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ludacris – we got-feat chingy/i-20/tity boi lyrics

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dtp we got them guns that go

yeah, i’m all about that pistol playa, cold blooded killa
n-gg-z recognize my name, [incomprehensible]
you better tell ya man that with the gages i’m nice
i’ll shoot up y’all white shirts until y’all look like dikes

but i’m through with all the talking time to show all you n-gg-z
i 2-0, i’m like j-lo, going through n-gg-z
dtp we ain’t plying if you try to get our pen
a.k’s get ta spraying like

bottom line that mean i’m bout it, any n-gg- want it, doubt it
bust you in the broad day, on the street that’s fully crowded
find our hole and f-gots there, just for thinking it’s rap
and tell that pretty b-tch thug we got some pretty big gats

chaka say i’m shot out, and i tend to agree
so you should what you saying if it’s intended for me
so be careful what you starting, let my fingers do the walking
and that oozy get to talking like

hammers, jam ’em, sn-tch ’em, grab ’em
can the an and f-ck ’em, d-mn ’em
press him, man him, scan him, tan him, kneed him up
bake him, take him, beat him up, i hate i hate, i eat him up
a b c e f shawty is you a g or what

now it’s just me and my nuts, that’s all i got in this world
i’m pulling pistols out my stomach and throwing them b-tches up like earl
serving the club, head shot, scattered, covered, run, scram ’em
i’m 38, hot with a pearl handle

and i’m throwing text like a nba ref
i got, all gold guns like they came from iraq
artillery, could it be i got all kinds of these pistols
i point my gun at ya homeboy make ya own folks h-t ya

and ain’t taking no more pictures, if you snap i’ma click
anyway, plus i got bullets in the clip the size of lil fate
and i’m webbing choppers like heli-copters
you gon’ need h-lla doctors, when the glock go

say on the set b-tch, better watch your lip that text be quick
20 over thurr, t-ty over thurr, luda over thurr, ain’t no exit trick
us you don’t mess with, we got them guns like action flicks
reload with the next clip, i’m the ro n-gg- to flex with b-tch

come on and test this, my gun i’m having s-x with sh-t
put a bullet in shoot it out, got them long h-rns like texas b-tch
look at my necklace, maybe hit a n-gg- disrespect this click
my pistol grip sound like this, now what

who want that they f-cked, when i c-ck and load the cake, bust bust
y’all cowards play tough, and my peeps we come to spray stuff up
y’all lives made up, like ugly hoes with make-up bra
we’ll suit you up then toss yo -ss in the lake tough nut

i’m wrist rocky, like sylvester stallone
so thurr for you should invest, in a vest for ya dome
’cause i know you marks planning on getting me when i’m landing
beast the nick, but my cannon go

f-ck a medic, we gon’ call yo -ss a taxi cab
bleedin’ so hard you’ll need a life size maxi pad
so flip the script and tell your woman it’s your time on the month
a.k. 47 for the n-gg-z who’s really looking for heaven
and a 9 for you chumps

got killaz in my squad and i’m the nicest one in my group
but i got bananas for you n-gg-z and i ain’t talking ’bout fruit
i’ll pay your cab back with the black mack
till your back crack, got the gat back like

swallow a hallow make ’em digest with a 50 caliber
yo futures not looking so good, tomorrows not on your calendar
i, do away with the amateurs, they breathing too long
i’ll leave ’em coughing like the sound effects you hear in this song

my shotguns are cold and hard, but my desert is easy
and my triggers are always talking about some squeeze me, squeeze me
and for these fakers talking greezy, i’m starting the show
my oozy got a drum roll, it goes

- ludacris lyrics

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