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We Got

We Got

Hits: 505K
Artist: Ludacris

Lyrics

\ DTP we got them guns that go Yea I'm all about that pistol player, cold blooded killer Niggaz recognize my name, I dub the young dealer You better tell ya man that with the gauges I'm nice Ill shoot up y'all white shirts until y'all look like dikes But I'm through with all the talking time to show all you niggas I 2-0, I'm like J-Lo...going through niggas DTP we ain't plying if you try to get our pen A.K's get ta spraying like, Bottom line that mean I'm bout it, any nigga want it, doubt it Bust you in the broad day, on the street that's fully crowded Find our hole and fagots there, just for thinking its rap And tell that pretty bitch thug we got some pretty big gats Chaka say I'm shot out, and I tend to agree So you should what you saying if it's intended for me So be careful what you starting, let my fingers do the walking And that oozy get to talking like Hammers, jam 'em, snatch 'em, grab 'em Can the an and fuck 'em, damn 'em Press him, man him, scared him, teared him, kneed him up Bake him, take him, beat him up, I hate I hate, I eat him up A-B-C-E-F shawty is you a G or what Now it's just me and my nuts, that's all I got in this world I'm pulling pistols out my stomach and throwing them bitches up like earl Serving the club, head shot, scattered, covered, run, scram 'em I'm 38, hot with a pearl handle, And I'm throwing text like a NBA ref I got, all gold guns like they came from Iraq Artillery, could it be I got all kinds of these pistols I point my gun at ya homeboy make ya own folks hit ya And ain't taking no more pictures, if you snap I'ma click Anyway, plus I got bullets in the clip the size of Lil Fate And I'm webbing choppers like helicopters You goin' need hella doctors, when the glok go Say on the set bitch, better watch your lip that text be quick 20 over there, Tity over there, Luda over there, ain't no exit trick Us you don't mess with, we got them guns like action flicks Reload with the next clip, I'm the ro nigga to flex with bitch Come on and test this, my gun I'm having sex with shit Put a bullet in (in) shoot it out, got them long horns like Texas bitch Look at my necklace, maybe hit a nigga disrespect this click My pistol grip sound like this, now what Who want that they fucked, when I cock and load the cake, bust bust Y'all cowards play tough, and my peeps we come to spray stuff up Y'all lives made up, like ugly hoes with make-up bra We'll suit you up then toss yo ass in the lake tough nut I'm wrist rocky, like Sylvester Stallone So there for you should invest, in a vest for ya dome Cause I know you marks planning on getting me when I'm landing Beast the nick, but my cannon go Fuck a medic, we goin' call yo ass a taxi cab Bleeding so hard you'll need a life size maxi pad So flip the script and tell your woman its your time on the month A.K. 47 for the niggas who's really looking for heaven and a 9 for you chumps Got killers in my squad and I'm the nicest one in my group But I got bananas for you niggas and I ain't talking bout fruit Ill pay your cab back with the black mack Till your back crack, got the gat back like, clack, clack, clack Swallow a hallow make 'em digest with a 50 caliber Yo futures not looking so good, tomorrows not on your calendar I, do away with the amateurs, they breathing too long Ill leave 'em coughing like the sound effects you hear in this song My Shotguns are cold and hard, but my Desert is easy And my triggers are always talking about some squeeze me, squeeze me And for these fakers talking greezy, I'm starting the show My Oozy got a drum roll, it goes

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