Ludacris

Ludacris - Saturday Oooh Oooh lyrics

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I gotta big weed stash, pocket full of cash
 Just seen a big ol' ass, it's Saturday
 Sticky, icky, icky, icky
 Sticky, icky, icky, icky
 System on blast, cops just pass
 Just seen a big ol' ass, it's Saturday
 Sticky, icky, icky, icky
 Sticky, icky, icky, icky

 [Verse 1: Ludacris]
 Grease don't pop on the stove no more, moved on up
 double shot Hennesey fill my cup
 Luda choke smoke in a big black truck
 Should I wild out, WHAT THE FUCK?!
 Act like my rims ain't clean
 How you gonna ack like my neck don't bling?
 Haters get sprayed like aftro-sheen
 but they don't never really wanna pop them thangs
 Cane, cane sugar man Luda don't go
 and I stop at a light, pull off so slow
 but I'm out for the night, so pass that dro
 So, daddy come home in a Cadillac brome, cadillac brome
 Now don't it sound absurd
 Claim College Park where they flip them birds
 Trick car alarms, then bend them curves
 Chop chop, chunk it up fat man herb

 [Chorus]

 [Verse 2: Ludacris]
 It's illegal bout the plants in my backyard grow, that's my bud
 Smoke 'til ya drop out, that's my luck
 Keep a couple rolled and I hit the club in the back door, NIGGA WHAT?!
 Act like I don't make cloud, how you gonna act like I don't get loud?
 How you gonna act like I don't rock crowds?
 and leave a lot of people with a gap tooth smile
 If I recollect right then you sound like dirt
 but, I guess what you really don't know don't hurt
 with a vest, and a pump hear the shot gun
 My folks on the block, man, they got that word (they got that word)
 Don't it smell so good, in Southwest where they rep that hood
 Protect your chest, they up to no good
 and come through flossin, they wish y'all would

 [Chorus]

 [Verse 3: Ludacris]
 Worldwide hustlers get that dough
 work that tip, get rid of evidence, move that brick
 Keep a D eagle with an extra clip
 think it ain't so, SUCK A DICK!
 Act like I just do rap
 How you gonna act like I just ain't strapped?
 How you gonna act like I don't push lacs?
 Black Eldorado, fifth wheel on BACK!
 Ichy finger trigger, man, Luda don't squeeze
 With a mac, with a glock I'ma make 'em say please
 In the back, on block so the cops they freeze
 And I'm so high, I think I got a nose bleed, you gotta nose bleed?
 Don't it smell so sweet?
 In DECATUR, where they pack that heat
 And ROB neighbors in the night creep, creep
 I'll see you LATER we'll be in them streets...

 [Chorus: repeat 2x
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Copyrights:

Author: ?

Composer: ?

Publisher: Def Jam South

Details:

Released in: 2001

Language: English

Appearing on: Word of Mouf (2001)

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