Текст песни Ludacris - Everybody Hates Chris
Ludacris - Everybody Hates Chris слова песни
Текст песни Ludacris - Everybody Hates Chris
(feat. Chris Rock)Sing along with me,Say fuck you Luda [x3]Yea, I guess that's why everybody hates Chris( )Say fuck you Luda [x3]Yea, I guess that's why everybody hates ChrisOk now, this is for the Gs and this is for the hustlersThis is for the diamonds and the watch all clusteredSpread em like mustard, canary yellowNow women in my face like helloYea I'm sort of a big dealThese Giovanni rims are sort of a big wheelThis five course dinner is sort of a big mealThis Bentley GT can make Luda dissapearFaster than David Copperfield mothafuckaI'm talkin five star tellis, and penthouse suitesYea I'm just a playboy between penthouse sheetsHit the club and go and party with some penthouse freaksParty with Britney, Lindsay and Paris togetherGet in line and buyin' bottles that's taller than Chris WebberAnd makin haters sneeze from diamonds and sick leathersCause my ice gives em cold like they as if they under the weatherBut my women keep me warmer than a polo sweater[Chorus:]Now I stay fresh to death draped in gangsta fitsOver 12 million sold I drop gangsta hitsLive in mansions and drive around in gangsta whipsYou swear I'm bout to get into some gangsta shitOh no here comes trouble, my vision is skewedI can only see in doubles, two models two bottlesThat'll pop like bubbles and when I get homeThe girls tops lift off like airspace shuttles60 seconds till blast offMy car got a face lift and took it's mask offTint so dark it look like I took the glass offThe body was white for 8 weeksBefore I finally decided to take it's cast offNow it's blacker than a bottom less pitYou talk shit you'll end up with bottom less lipI hit a nigga so hard, I'll make him swallow his spitThen I be with Bobby V on that anonymous shit[Chorus]I go for broke like TLCThe hottest nigga on the micYea I believe that's meNow all the ladies wanna give a lil TLCCause Luda was set for life after 3 LPsYepStill countin still climbin the chartsAnd rappers still talkin shitLike they was rhymin in fartsI cross the finish line twiceThey still tryin to startBut my infrared beam will make em shine in the dark[Chorus]