| I think I’d rather walk down and get 'em all | 
| You know what I’m talkin 'bout right? | 
| Look | 
| I’m never goin nowhere so don’t try me My music sticks in fans veins like an IV | 
| Flows poison like Ivy, oh they grimy | 
| Already offers on my 6th album from labels tryin to sign me Respected highly, HIIII MR. | 
| O’REILLY | 
| Hope all is well, kiss the plantiff and the wifey | 
| Drove through the window, the industry super sized me Now the girls see me and a river’s what they cry me | 
| I’m on the rise, so many people despise me Got party ammunition for those tryin to surprise me (surprise!) | 
| It’s a celebration and everyone should invite me Roll with the crew or meet the bottom of our Nikes (blaow!) | 
| Explorer like Dora these swipers can’t swipe me My whole aura’s so MEAN in my white tee | 
| Nobody light-skinded reppin harder since Ice-T | 
| You disagree, take the Tyson approach and bite me! | 
| Whoa! | 
| Don’t slip up or get got! | 
| (Why not man?) | 
| I’m comin for that number one spot! | 
| (Alright) | 
| Rappers swearin they on top! | 
| (Nuh uh, uh uh) | 
| But I’m comin’for they number one spot! | 
| (Alright man) | 
| Scheme scheme, plot plot (say WHAT?) | 
| I’m comin for that number one spot! | 
| (Woo, hey) | 
| Keep it goin it won’t stop! | 
| (What you doin man?) | 
| I’m comin for that number one spot! | 
| Yes indeed, Ludacris I’m hotter than Nevada | 
| Ready to break the steerin column on yo’Impala | 
| If I get caught, bail out, po'-po'I tell 'em holla | 
| In court I never show up, like Austin Powers fa-zha | 
| Father, father, and hey I love gold | 
| But can buy anything I want from the records I’ve sold | 
| Jacuzzi’s hot, Cristal is so cold | 
| Neighbors catch contacts, from the blunts that I’ve rolled | 
| A pig in a blanket, a smoke and a pancake | 
| Drop albums non-stop once a year for my fans sake | 
| I crush mics until my hand breaks | 
| Then shag now and shag later 'til these women can’t stand straight | 
| The Luda-meister got 'em feelin so randy | 
| I’m +XXL+ so I call 'em my +Eye Candy+ | 
| Brush my shoulder and I, pop my collar | 
| Cause I’m worth a million ga-zillion fa-fillion dollars | 
| Causin lyrical disasters, it’s the master | 
| Make music for Mini-Me's, models and Fat Bastards | 
| These women tryin yo get me out my Pelle Pelle | 
| They strip off my clothes and tell me, «Get in my belly!» | 
| Stay on the track, hit the ground runnin like Flo-Jo | 
| Sent back in time and I’ve never lost my mojo | 
| Ladies and gentlemen ahh, boys and girls | 
| Ludacris sent down to take over the whole world! |