A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #

Ludacris

"Cry Babies"

[Hook: Ludacris - repeat 2X]
(Oh No!) I caught him with a blow to the chest
(Oh No!) My hollow put a hole in his vest
(Oh No!) I'm bout to send two to his dome
(Oh No!) Cry babies go home!

[Verse One: Ludacris]
I got people scared as f*ck like when condoms break
Or how your heart deals with eatin' eighty pounds of steak
So put your belly on a plate and watch your weight
You frostin' like a flake and Ludacris feels grrreat!
Who wanna come face me, face come want who?
And women give me face until they're face turns blue
They can't breathe, di*k to mouth resuscitation
A tight squeeze witch stops the length to conversations
I Playstations, duck cops and lose agents
I'm Doctor Love, I close curtains and f*ck patients
When I kick and rip and flip an indispensable rhyme
My black ass is so hungry I'll take a bite out of crime
And it'll hurt if I swallow, but even more if I choke
Neighbors called the fire station off the blunt that I smoke
You see I crush cowards, funerals I'll send flowers
And I'm on the overpass flick pennies at rush hour

[Hook]

[Verse Two: Ludacris]
You see I'm ambidextrous: I slap ass with both hands
Delete your first steps, but I'll save the last dance
I just bought some new guns my mama said "it ain't worth it"
But I'm at the shooting range just cause practice makes perfect
Bullseye, I stunt growth and stop lives
You run with n*ggas that's more chicken then pot pies
Bok bok bok I'm shakin your tail feathers
I got big balls, I'm a SAC King like Chris Webber
Luda' will take you back to duck hunt and double dribble
When n*ggas sold quarters and dimes and smoked nickels
My cars got big TVs and satellites
I got a Wheel of Fortune cause I flipped O's like Vanna White
And the survey says? (Kill a muthaf*cka now)
Could it be off with his head? (Or shoot a muthaf*cka down)
Ground round, ground chuck your ground beef
Bullets gather round then I shoot rounds around teeth

[Hook]

[Verse Three: Ludacris]
I kick n*ggas in their ass reboot 'em like laptops
And they wouldn't even box if I gave 'em a flat top
You punks pucker and pout, bicker and babble
Now they all lost for words like I beat 'em in Scrabble
You see I'm from a small town called "Fresh out a cop's ass"
Where Mr. Head-Potatoes are skinned they get mashed
I smell puss from fifty yards
Y'all not playin with full decks as if I jacked out ya Jacks and left fifty cards
Catch me in Vegas spendin' the green
I re-up with more chips than a vending machine
Then you can catch me in Rome mackin' some broads and sticking 'em
And you'll be at home picking your boogers and flicking 'em
A drug dealer's dream, so fresh and I'm so clean
I'm a grown ass man and you're sweeter than sixteen
So go and kick rocks peons you're just rookies
Headed down stairs to get you some milk and cookies

[Hook - 2X]

A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #


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