Ludacris

Ludacris - We Got songtekst

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[Ludacris]



                      DTP we got them guns that go...

                    [I-20]



                      Yea I'm all about that pistol playa, cold blooded killa



                      Niggaz recognize my name, I dub the young dealer



                      You better tell ya man that with the gages I'm nice



                      Ill shoot up yall white shirts until yall look like dikes



                      But I'm through with all the talking time to show all you niggaz



                      I 2-0, I'm like J-Lo...going through niggaz



                      DTP we aint plying if you try to get our pen



                      A.K's get ta spraying like...



                      Bottom line that mean I'm bout it, any nigga want it, doubt it



                      Bust you in the broad day, on the street that's fully crowded



                      Find our hole and fagots there, just for thinking its rap



                      And tell that pretty bitch 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...

                    [Tity Boi]



                      Hammers, jam 'em, snatch 'em, grab 'em



                      Can the an and fuck 'em, damn 'em



                      Press him, man him, scared him, teared 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 bitches 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 I-RAQ



                      Artillery, could it be I got all kinds of these pistols



                      I point my gun at ya homeboy make ya own folks hit ya



                      And aint taking no more pictures, if you snap ima 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 hella doctors, when the glok go...

                    [Chingy]



                      Say on the set bitch, better watch your lip that text be quick



                      20 over thurr, Tity over thurr, Luda over thurr, aint 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 nigga to flex with bitch



                      Come on and test this, my gun I'm having sex with shit



                      Put a bullet in (in) shoot it out, got them long horns like Texas bitch



                      Look at my necklace, maybe hit a ngga disrespect this click



                      My pistol grip sound like this...now what



                      Who want that they fucked, when I cock and load the cake, bust bust



                      Yall cowards play tough, and my peeps we come to spray stuff up



                      Yall lives made up, like ugly hoes with make-up bra



                      We'll suit you up then toss yo ass 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...

                    [Ludacris]



                      Fuck a medic, we gon' call yo ass a taxi cab



                      Bleedin so hard you'll need a life size maxi pad



                      So flip the script and tell your woman its your time on the month



                      A.K. 47 for the niggaz 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 niggaz and I aint talking bout fruit



                      Ill pay your CAB BACK with the BLACK MACK



                      Till your BACK CRACK, got the GAT BACK like...CLAK CLAK CLAK



                      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



                      Ill 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...

                     
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Taal: Engels

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