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Versuri Ludacris - U Got A Problem

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Videoclipuri Ludacris U Got A Problem
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Chorus: Y’all got a problem come see me

Verse 1: I be that Nigga named Luda

Alert, Alert

It’s the At alien intruder

Collage Park water boy spit in the ca cooler

I Jam till they Def

They call me Slick Dick the rula

Women indeed

Keep your eyes closed

Bold flows

C’mon out them clothes hoes

Low pros low blows

Watch out for them Po Po’s

And I chose to be that number 1 contender

Southern offender

Fucking up your whole agenda

When I walk you try to run

When I run you try to hide

You skate at the snap of my finger

Call me golden glide

It’s you and I

Do or die

Who am I

I got a pocket full of family stones

Cats think I’m sly

Why try

You one of those niggas that like to cheat death

And I’m one of them niggas that rip out

Exersions until there are no seats left

You shit and wheat chex

And fart out deep breaths

While we toss darts at the bottom of y’all V-necks

(Who Cris aw that niggas aight that nigga cant fuck wit me though

let me get on tha mic who tha fuck are you)

Verse 2: I be that nigga Bronze Bridges

Playas wanna ball but go on strike

Cause of my pitches

They think I want they bitches

But I don’t want no pigeons

Yet pigeons can scrub my dishes

And y’all don’t want no scrubs

Until y'all pullout ya extensions

Y’all in school detention and never come out

Man I’ll cut your Achilles tenden and put a sock in yo mouth

Cause we the shit in the south

Fate know what I’m talking about

Ya see we Jack and we Daniel

Y’all Earl and Ralph

Four eyes twirl it out

Lick it dry it send it to flames

Not even Joshua can come to war wit these games

These bitch niggas is lame

And coming down wit the rain

You all wet behind the ears but its

A drought in your brain.

And that’s just simply and plain main

Three W dot shh

Man that dude Luda got some hot shh

Man shut the fuck up

Before you get cut the fuck up

(Hold on man hold on lil buddy ya'll talkin bout shawty man

shawty up on tha radio stations shawty be poppin man man

let his name be known who ya'll talkin about)

Verse 3: I be that nigga that lova lova

I’m nastier than thinking about your parents

Sex each other

No glove no love

Better tell your dick to run for cover

So when lightning strikes

You’ll be safe wit a few rubbers

If you know what I mean

Not everybody’s Mr. and Mrs. Clean

Some get burned like Freddie Cruggers

Sweat dreams

Girls backing they ass up

Now they 400 Degrees ha

Hot girl

Tryin to give it to niggas up on the block girl

Have you screaming stop girl

I rock worlds

Wit my nine-inch Louisville slugger

Still wonder why they call me Lover Lover

Self explainectorian

Ass valedictorian

I bring them back to the future like a 85 Delorian

The Luda drug Emporian

On the counter descriptions

You like my Diction

And my doctor nurse conventions

Place the stethascope real close to your tittie

And have your butt cheeks Redman

Like Uncle Quilly

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