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"Ludacris"
"Ludacris"
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"Ludacris"
"Ludacris"
название:
автор:
жанры: hip-hop, rap
альбомы: Chicken & Beer
Screwed Up
автор:
Ludacris
жанры: hip-hop, rap
альбомы: Chicken & Beer
рейтинг: ★★★★★ / 5.4 / 1428 просмотров
- Текст
- Открытка с текстом
(Fuck you!) Fuck you! (Fuck you!) Fuck you! (Fuck you!) Fuck you! (Fuck you!) Fuck you! (I'm screwed up)I feel better than I've ever felt before, ah! Intoxicated but maintaining self-control, ah! I took a swig, I had a jug, chug-a-log, I'm loud and clear I had some bud, I lit it up, and then I made it disappear 'Cause my magic tricks, are so fabulous This shit's hazardous, got amateurs smoking cannibus If you mad at this, damn it then(Fuck you!) Fuck you! (Fuck you!) Fuck you! (Fuck you!) Fuck you! (Fuck you!) Fuck you! (I'm screwed up)I made a, call to my dog, time to split the blunt and break it up Three-wheel motion, purple potion, I gotta shake it up I tried to kick the habit, but it keep calling me Abracadabra, here's a magic trick, I smoked up all the weed Zig-Zag's and golden wraps got my mind gone Drugs don't affect my work, I still get my grind on(Fuck you!) Fuck you! (Fuck you!) Fuck you! (Fuck you!) Fuck you! (Fuck you!) Fuck you! (I'm screwed up)I'm leaning like the Tower of Pisa, the syrup squeezer Come close to my stash, and get treated as if I'm Ebeneezer I'm throwed, blowed, matter-of-fact let's call this the thrower potion I'm screwed up, so no wonder things are in slower motion I gots to have it, can't kick the habit, I've tried to shake it The drug experiment stage if you mistake then(Fuck you!) Fuck you! (Fuck you!) Fuck you! (Fuck you!) Fuck you! (Fuck you!) Fuck you! (I'm screwed up)I'm from Screwed Up Texas, we drive reckless, and then we peel off You ain't had shit until you smoke Sweet Tooth and Jack Frost Hit it twice but don't cough, you gotta take it man If it's a record for smoking I'm 'bout to break it man Me and Luda puffing budda, we in a black Cougar On Zab Judah, you try to jack us we grab Rugers(Fuck you!) Fuck you! (Fuck you!) Fuck you! (Fuck you!) Fuck you! (Fuck you!) Fuck you! (I'm screwed up)How can I say it plain? That I'm off that Mary Jane And if it's true what they say Then I don't know how many cells is left in my fucking brain But I'ma keep on writing and lighting Minds of these hungry rappers And tell the hood that I've hired niggas and fired crackers On the Fourth of July, opens your eyes I'm joking stupid I love all races but if you hating my music then(Fuck you!) Fuck you! (Fuck you!) Fuck you! (Fuck you!) Fuck you! (Fuck you!) Fuck you! (I'm screwed up)I love my I get patient we never have to take a piss test Fuck a 9 to 5 'cause I'm always getting rest I wake to breakfast and head You wake up to breakfast in bed Should I drive my H2? Hmmm? I'ma take the Lexus instead Pimping ain't dead but I'll leave you niggas Dead from all this pimping I'm riding spinners like a pimp That's why I'm limping(Fuck you!) Fuck you! (Fuck you!) Fuck you! (Fuck you!) Fuck you! (Fuck you!) Fuck you! (I'm screwed up)Off substances that's controlled That's how this story goes I popped the cap, broke the ice And Lil' Flip done broke the mold I'm so cold I think I, see dead people Nah, that's just my homies passed out in the Regal Believe it, the potency is so strong, if you notice me I'm calm, cool, and collected and if you, disrespect it, then(Fuck you!) Fuck you! (Fuck you!) Fuck you! (Fuck you!) Fuck you! (Fuck you!) Fuck you! (I'm screwed up)We doing this for them players that bang screw music We don't pass out after 8 blunts, because we used to it Me and Cris like Cheech & Chong So hurry, break out the weed and the bong 'Cause if it ain't Grade A trees, we gotta leave it alone And to my homie Screw, you know I gotta hold it down And if they want it then they gotta come and take the crown(Fuck you!) Fuck you! (Fuck you!) Fuck you! (Fuck you!) Fuck you! (Fuck you!) Fuck you! (I'm screwed up)(Fuck you!) Fuck you! (Fuck you!) Fuck you! (Fuck you!) Fuck you! (Fuck you!) Fuck you! (I'm screwed up)
Это интересно:Все знают Ludacris как южный продукт США. Однако Кристофер Бриджес мог бы украсить себя штампом "сделано в Чикаго". Точнее в местечке Шампань, штат Иллинойс, административным центром которого Чикаго и является. Родился малец в молодой студенческой семье. День рождения выпал на будущий черный день календаря, 11 сентября, так что в 2001-м Бен Ладен здорово подпортил ему праздник. В столицу... продолжение
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