Beat Box lyrics

by

Pastor Troy


[* People talking in the background *]

[Ludacris talking]
Yeah, they never seen that sh*t comin'
Greg Street and Ludacris, Georgia to Texas
All over y'all ass
Dirty South n*gga, check it

[Ludacris]
Now I'm an honest ho and all my hoes is honest
Luda make you brace yourself like orthodontist
I'm hooked on chronic and Smirnoff twist
But know ass in spandex is a turn-off b*tch
It's not right like chapped lips if you givin' some mouth
n*ggas want me on a song so I give em' the South
Thirty a verse, cars just for sixteen bars
And that's before I did this, so it probably went up
Eighty thousand dollar bonds, I ain't givin' a f*ck
Cause that's change in my pocket, 45 I c*ck it
Click before I spit then it's time to scram
Bought a Cutlass on dubs, colored candy yams
And that's bowling ball paint so I roll the lane
Keep a poker face b*tch and I fold the game
On a come up, get done up and it's time to creep
Freestyle motherf*cker, nightmare on Greg Street
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