Ludacris]

Yeah, Welcome to Atlanta, jack and hammer and voges

Back to the mackin' and jackin' the clothes, adolescent packin a fo'

A knock on the do', who is it?

I would happen to know, the one with the flow

Who did it?, it was me I suppose

J-D in the Rollz and Luda's in the Cutt Supreme

Skatin down old Nat, Gat tooked and lean

I split ya spleen, as matter' fact I split ya team

No blood on the sneak's, gottsta keep it so my kicks is clean

I get the cream, cops see me flick my beams

Im allergic to 'doc perscribed anti-histemines

Oink Oink, Pig Pig, do away with the pork

Only siguar needs a steak knife and a fork

Did you forget your fuckin manners, Im loose with banners

Ludacris, Johnny Rockets when i shoot the cannon

The Wooley mammoth saber-tooth, bitch bite your tounge

I wont stop until Im rich as them white-boy come

I pull up in the black Lotus, you're plaque's are bogus

So I stripped them off the wall

Waiting for my cue to corner pocket eight balls

You rackin' 'em up, Im big paper like pancakes, stackin' 'em up

In fact Im slappin' 'em up, Cadallacin' the truck

I cant loose with 22