Catch up de Ludacris |
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Letra de Catch up
[Chorus]
All this drinking gon catch up
And all this smoking gon catch up
But some niggaz just really don´t give a fuck
But some niggaz just relly don´t give a fuck
And all this drinking gon catch up
And all this smoking gon catch up
But some bitches just really don´t give a fuck
But some bitches just really don´t give a fuck
[Ludacris]
Now let me be quite Frank
Cause I´m that crazy nigga Luda
Always got a drink
And I´m steady smoking buddah
I do the
Evil that´ll bend you when I get you
I´mma sit you down
Then take it to the mental and essential and clown
Every chance I get
Bitch I´m hit
Not by no bullet or no pellet
But the smoke from the can a beer shit
I might just be too high
Then I put my middle finger up when I´m ridin´ by
And say hi to plenty liquors and I know it´s a sin
And if ya tell me stop drinking I´ll just do it again
So when I get old I´mma rock, roll, shake, and shiver
With some blacked out lungs and a fucked up liver
[Chorus]
[Infamous 2-0]
Ey yo I do this for bluntheads and whinos
Steward Ave. Homes
Niggaz from G-Ro committed to slanging blo
Doublin´ dough 24-7
Fuck po-po´s I´m blowin´ dro out the Ac Legend
Runnin wit 2 strike felons
And I pack 4-4´s like Hank Aaron
Then´ll smoke a L
Bust shells
And dare ya to tell
Walk up in the club
Pretty thug
Fucked up off head shots
Sippin´ Courvousier watchin´ hoes drop it like it´s
hot
Shaking tits and twats
Placing big face 20´s and cock
Loading clips and glocks
Knowing we got the haters hot
The ballin´ don´t stop
Just drop more G´s on drink and drugs
Live it up young nigga cause it´s gon´ catch up
[Chorus]
[F.A.T.E.]
Now wit the help of Hen and Coke
I grab my pen and pad and wrote
Something that I knew was dope
And represent for my kinfolk
Pimp a hoe until she broke
Wit mo lines than chopped coke
Ey yo it´s 2-0 I´m Eastside´s King
I came with a Beretta with a twist of Amaretta
My shit even come out better
Grab a blunt put it together
What a nigga really need
Run up in the club and blow a motherfucker til he
bleed
Could it be an Icehouse put his lights out
Or the club get closed out
If it´s hoes out I show out
Call Tyheed get Dro´d out
There´s no doubt I love my life
Love the light
Love to write
Love the mic
So take a drag
Grab a bag and match up
Hennessey and bad weed
Believe me it catch up
[Chorus]
[F.A.T.E.]
Git it right
Ludacris, F.A.T.E. Fullster, Infamous 2-0, ATL
We are the dirty south´s dirtiest. Disturbing the peace. |
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