Chris Rock
Everybody Hates Chris
{*audience cracks up and applauds*}

[Intro: Chris Rock]
2010, that's right, we in the future: Atlanta, Georgia
Millions of albums sold, millions of moneys rolled
I see why +Everybody Hates Chris+ - YOU LIGHT-SKINNED BIATCH!!

[Hook 2X: Ludacris]
Say, "FUCK you, Luda!" - (FUCK YOU, LUDA!)
Say, "FUCK you, Luda!" - (FUCK YOU, LUDA!)
Say, "FUCK you, Luda!" - (FUCK YOU, LUDA!)
Yeah, I guess that's why +Eveybody Hates Chris+

[Verse 1: Ludacris]
Hey! Okay now, this is for the Gs' and this is for the hustlers
This is for the diamonds and the WATCH all clustered
Spread 'em like mustard (yep!), canary yellow
Now women in my face like "HELLO!" (Waddup!)
Yea, I'm sort of a big deal (deal)
These Giovanni rims are sort of a big wheel (wheel)
This five course dinner is sort of a big meal (meal)
This Bentley GT can make Luda disappear faster than David COPPERFIELD, mutha-FUCKA!
I'm talkin five star tellys, and Penthouse Suites
Yea, I'm just a Playboy between Penthouse sheets (okay!)
Hit the club and go and party with some Penthouse freaks (say what?)
Party with Britney, Lindsay and Paris together
Get in line and buyin bottles that's taller than Chris Webber
And makin haters sneeze from diamonds and sick leathers
Cause my ice gives 'em cold as if they under the weather (cool!)
But my women keep me warmer than a POLO sweater - they better
I guess that's why +Everybody Hates Chris+

[Verse 2: Ludacris]
Hey, now I stay fresh to death draped in gangsta fits (okay)
Over twelve million sold, I drop gangsta hits (yes sir!)
Live in mansions and drive around in gangsta whips
You would swear I'm 'bout to get into some gangsta shit
Oh no! Here comes trouble, my vision is skewed
I can only see in doubles, two models, two bottles
That'll pop like bubbles, and when I get home {}
The girls' tops lift off like air space shuttles (Liftoff {*rocket flies*})
And I guess that's why +Everybody Hates Chris+
It's sixty seconds 'til BLAST off!
My car got a face lift and took its mask off
Tint so dark it look like I took the glass off
The body was white for eight weeks befo' I finally decided to take its cast off (whoo!)
Now it's blacker than a bottomless pit
You talk shit you'll end up, wit bottomless lip (Blaow!)
I hit a n***a so hard, I'll make him swallow his spit (Blaow!)
Then I be with Bobby V. on that +Anonymous+ shit - you hear me?
And I guess that's why Everybody Hates Chris


[Verse 3: Ludacris]
Hey... (Let's go!) I go for BROKE like TLC
The hottest n***a on the mic - yeah, I believe that's me (Me, bay-bay!)
Now all the ladies wanna give a lil' T.L.C. (C'mon, girl)
Cause Luda was set for LIFE after three LPs (Ching!) - Yep!
Still counting, still climbing the charts
And rappers still talking shit like they was rhyming in farts (Waddup?)
I cross the finish line twice, they still trying to start (Nope!)
But my infrared beam will make 'em shine in the dark (BLAOW!)
And I guess that's why +Everybody Hates Chris+

[Outro: Chris Rock]
I never did like this motherfucker..
The only rapper that, goes to the airport without a gun in his bag {*audience laughs*}
What the fuck? You tryin to stay out of jail?
How DARE you?! {*audience laughs*}
He got six albums, what you tryin to fill up an iPod, n***a?! {*audience laughs*}
Ludacris, onstage at the Oscars
That n***a onstage at the Oscars
I don't like it, I don't like it one motherfuckin bit
Taking parts, from good actors {*audience laughs*}
This motherfucker can't act
Ah, Hustle & Flow - N***A, YOU PLAYED YOURSELF!
{*audience cracks up and applauds*}
N***a...How DARE you?!
{*appluads continues 'til the end of the song*}