| I got people scared as fuck like when condoms break
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| Or how your heart deals with eatin eighty pounds of steak
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| So put your belly on a plate and watch your weight
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| You frostin like a flake and ludacris feels grrreat!
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| Who want come face me, face come want who?
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| And women give me face until theyre face turns blue
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| They cant breathe, dick to mouth recessatation
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| A tight squeeze witch stops the length to conversations
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| I playstations, duck cops and lose agents
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| Im doctor love, I close curtains and fuck patients
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| When I kick and rip and flip an indespensable rhyme
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| My black ass is so hungry Ill take a bite out of crime
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| And itll hurt if I swallow, but even more if I choke
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| Neighbors called the fire station off the blunt that I smoke
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| You see I crush cowards, funerals Ill send flowers
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| And Im on the overpass flick pennies at rush hour
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| You see Im ambidextrous I slap ass with both hands
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| Delete your first steps, but Ill save the last dance
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| I just bought some new guns my mama said «it aint worth it»
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| But Im at the shooting range just cause practice makes perferct
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| Bullseye, I stunt growth and stop lives
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| You run with niggas thats more chicken then pot pies
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| Bok bok bok Im shakin your tale feathers
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| I got big balls, Im a sac king like chris webber
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| Luda will take you back to duck hunt and double dribble
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| When niggas sold quarters and dimes and smoked nickels
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| My cars got big tvs and satellites
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| I got a wheel of fortune cause I flipped os like vanna white
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| And the servey says? |
| (kill a mutha fucka now)
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| Could it be off with his head? |
| (or shoot a mutha fucka down)
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| Ground round, ground chuck your ground beef
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| Bullets gather round then I shoot rounds around teeth
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| I kick niggas in theyre ass reboot em like laptops
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| And they wouldnt even box if I gave em a flat top
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| You punks pucker and pout, bicker and babble
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| Now they all lost for words like I beat em in scrabble
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| You see Im from a small town called «fresh out a cops ass»
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| Where mr. |
| head-potatoes are skinned they get mashed
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| I smell puss from fifty yards
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| Yall not playin with full decks as if I jacked out ya jacks and left fifty cards
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| Catch me in vegas spinnin the green
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| I re-up with more chips than a vending machine
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| Then you can catch me in rome maggots in brauds and sticking em And youll be at home picking your bougars and flicking em A drug dealers dream, so fresh and Im so clean
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| Im a grown ass man and youre sweeter than sixteen
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| So go and kick rocks peons youre just rookies
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| Headed down stairs to get you some milk and cookies |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Cry Babies (Oh No) , by - Ludacris. Song from the album Word Of Mouf, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп