Hey how you doin', Ms. Lady? You so fine with it I know you handlin' business, can I get your 5 minutes?
Don’t be offended by me telling you you thick with it Wit all that shake, can a player get some fries with it?
Wit all that shake, can a player get some fries with it?
Wit all that shake, can a player get some fries with it?
Don’t be offended when I tell you that you’re very pretty
Wit all that shake, can a player get some fries with it?
's Gucci
That waist got a swivel to it But that ass a Cali earthquake jiggle to it She a stallion, no horseshit
You could fit that bitch’s booty on a forklift
Beep! Beep! Bitch back it up
I put my balls on the table, tell her rack 'em up Vanilla bed sheets, chocolate laid one way
Sprinkle my nuts on top — what a sundae, hey
Whipped cream cherry on top
And when I ain’t wit' her, p-ssy on lock
Throw away the key, it’s a rap bitch!
Large shake and a Ludacris sandwich
Yo, mama turned out, she so popular
You suckers can’t see her with binoculars
She’ll suck your pocket dry like Dracula
Her last boyfriend bought her an Acura
Don’t try to get all attached to her
She an alley-cat type — that chick’ll scratch you up Like Bel Biv DeVoe said, «She's dangerous»
Her old man used to snort angel dust
So, don’t be quick to judge, shorty bad as f-ck
She’s the type that drive back with the bricks for bucks
She had a ballplayer dude but she f-cked him up He bankrupt, selling cars like an auctioner
It’s Gucci
I’ve got a sausage for them hot cakes
And I be f-ckin' while you niggas out on hot dates
You all polite and open doors for her
While every night I put that blanket on the floor for her
These hoes be sprintin' like it’s track 'n' field
Because this supersize dick is their Happy Meal
So for an extra value woody
Put this Big Mac into that Quarter-Pound p-ssy, yes!
It’s Ludacris «Mr. Slay-A-Bitch»
Unless that p-ssy is smelling like a Filet-O-Fish
Shoo Fly, ho! Kick the bucket
And niggas talking shit I bust 'em in their chicken nugget

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