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Ludacris

"We In This b*tch"

[Chorus: Future]
We got money in our pocket and whatever you're sippin' on
Red-bottom limpin' around this b*tch, what the f*ck you trippin' on?
Twenty goons, they in this b*tch, you better check your tone
And they gon' put you back in place if you do somethin' wrong (Salute)
We in this b*tch (We in this b*tch)
We in this b*tch
Yeah, we in this b*tch (Yeahhh)
We got a section full of girls and they barely speak any English
Let's toast it up to that life and I mean it

[Verse 1: Young Jeezy]
We in this b*tch, we in this hoe
I got the .40 on me now, I'm worse than Plaxico
Shout to Gangsta Gibbs, he the next to blow
You should see my gangsta grill, I light the sh*t from blow
Snow ya car transformin', is it a Transformer?
You ever cook the whole thing on a George Foreman?
What about a nine on the gas grill?
Four-fifty for the zip, paid my gas bill
So many horses in the 'Rari, park it in a barn
Took the ice up out my cup and put it in my charm
And this bad b*tch wit' me from another planet
Stay on the satellite phone, man, I can't stand it
Hey, baby girl, hang the phone up
No talkin' wit'cha mouth full, you's a grown-up
What the f*ck? Who the hell?
Flashback in this b*tch, thought I seen a scale

[Chorus: Future]
We got money in our pocket and whatever you're sippin' on
Red-bottom limpin' around this b*tch, what the f*ck you trippin' on?
Twenty goons, they in this b*tch, you better check your tone
And they gon' put you back in place if you do somethin' wrong (Salute)
We in this b*tch (We in this b*tch)
We in this b*tch
Yeah, we in this b*tch (Yeahhh)
We got a section full of girls and they barely speak any English
Let's toast it up to that life and I mean it

[Verse 2: T.I.]
You know how we handle sh*t, gangsta gutter glamorous
Zone One Atlanta sh*t, over all the amateurs
I'm walkin' up in here a boss, so, dawg, approach with caution though
Disrespect is tolerated, that's some sh*t you oughta know
n*ggas say they ball, yeah, but I'm ballin' harder though
Cold as the nose on a Appalachian Eskimo
It finna go down, hoe, pop-poppin' bottles, drown hoes
Paid n*ggas wit' us, ain't no broke n*ggas around so
Excuse me, who is he? I don't do this usually
But I'm too fresh to fight, somebody go and get security
I'm buyin' this, buyin' that, gettin' that check and flyin' jet
Boucheron, Constantine, Puff like, where you find that?
American at the nature, boy, a lot of n*gga hate your boy
Pocket full of money, got more paper than a paperboy
Hoes jockin', on Twitter trending topic
Future, Jeezy, 'Cris, and Drama, Tip say, "Let's go get it poppin'!"

[Chorus: Future]
We got money in our pocket and whatever you're sippin' on
Red-bottom limpin' around this b*tch, what the f*ck you trippin' on?
Twenty goons, they in this b*tch, you better check your tone
And they gon' put you back in place if you do somethin' wrong (Salute)
We in this b*tch (We in this b*tch)
We in this b*tch
Yeah, we in this b*tch (Yeahhh)
We got a section full of girls and they barely speak any English
Let's toast it up to that life and I mean it

[Verse 3: Ludacris]
Luda
I'm poppin' plenty bottles like I got plenty bricks
Call me Mr. Marcus, I'm in this b*tch
Super drank, super smoke and some super hoes
VIP looking like we won the f*cking Superbowl
Thirsty chicks tryna give it, I don't want it
You been in more laps than the Indy 500
Conjure's what we drankin', faded 'til the world end
Never see me plankin' unless I'm on your girlfriend
Ludacris, I been a staple in this Southern game
Got the best lines, so I guess I'm slangin' Southern 'caine
My money's louder, you rappers need to hush more
My presidents rock, my accounts are Mount Rushmore
On the island and my phone is hittin' dead spots
Altoid can of blue pills, that's my X-box
You could hate, you could diss, you could make a wish
But eight albums, and Luda's still in this b*tch

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