[Ludacris]
|
Look, I make my own decisions
|
Learn from my own mistakes
|
My enemies they want beef but don't know whats at stake
|
I started out with nothing, just a dream and some hope
|
I fiend for the riches like them crackheads fiend for the dope
|
I went from freeze tag to holding some weed bags
|
To a clown of hoes juggling my bean bag
|
I went from spin the bottle to kiss the model
|
To 3 more seconds we gone find out if she spits or swallows
|
I heard its a recession, while you hardly survive
|
The hardest decision of my day is which car I'ma drive
|
Roll's Royce Phantom, maybe the gold Ac'
|
Or the origami Ferrari the way it fold back
|
This ain't no 760, bitch this an Alpiner
|
Custom kicks chrome lips as deep as vagina
|
And women lost for words, guess they don't know English
|
No matter what language they speak they all know dinglish
|
|
[Hook]
|
Don't you understand with this blunt in my hand
|
(I'm fire) smoke smoke smoke sumthin;
|
And don't you understand with the World in my hand
|
If I ain't the shit
|
Don't you understand with this blunt in my hand
|
(I'm fire) smoke smoke smoke sumthin;
|
And don't you understand with the World in my hand
|
If I ain't the shit
|
|
[Ludacris]
|
Now as the World turns spinning on its axis
|
My dick be brushing women's lips like chapstick
|
They say it's cold on the outside
|
So like a dentist I'm tryna keep the mouth wide
|
Reminiscing on my days on the southside
|
I made many leak and I ain't talkin' 'bout no housewives
|
From eating canned tuna, to shoe hills with puma
|
From women saying a¢æ©«hey chrisa¢æ? to a¢æ©«GODDAMN LUDA!a¢æ?
|
From playing slap box to making the a¢æ?Lac drop
|
To white neighbours swear I'm selling crack rock
|
Eyes so low they think I'm Asian when I'm blazing
|
Cause that purples on my chest like I'm playing for the Ravens
|
Cadillac Devilles still rolling til the tires flat
|
Not from Arizona but I swear I want that diamond back
|
Sunroof tar, wood grain wheel
|
I sign for millions, ya'll would never get the same deal
|
|
[Hook]
|
|
[Big K.R.I.T.]
|
I got a candy coated fetish, hoe don't you forget it
|
But big big big let me wet it, its that K-R-I-T stay besides me
|
We can go get this dough, then we mind if you show me dime
|
I promise you wont let go
|
I got an old school and that bass big
|
If it ain't on chrome than it ain't me
|
And my mouthpiece colder than the ice season
|
Call me father Winter in the peak of summer I spit December
|
Breaking backs as they cracking limber
|
If that's your bitch than she can't remember
|
I give her wood, she holla timber
|
And the paint I play the sum or attention
|
Television of a player with an intention to be rich?
|
Well I hate to mention?
|
Back again, one more time for the buck niggas
|
And the thoroughbread that won't fuck with a¢æ?em
|
And hanged on cause I stuck with a¢æ?em
|
I ain't got time to waste hoe
|
Didn't have shit now I make more than I can barely count
|
Keep the thoroughbread shaking what the Good Lord gave a¢æ?em
|
Yo chick ass been a bounce
|
We still live from the underground
|
Ain't nothing changed to me
|
I put it down from the south, and body everything these lames claim to be
|
Young Chrisa¢æ|
|
|
[Hook]
|
|
-----------------
|
I'm On Fire
|
| Ludacris |