SoundHex Watermark
B.O.T.S. Radio (Album Version Explicit)

B.O.T.S. Radio (Album Version Explicit)

Hits: 338.6K
Artist: Ludacris

Lyrics

Awh yeah Welcome back to Battle of the Sexes Radio Where it is 12:45 in the A.M. And Disturbing The Peace Is our in studio guest Our hot-line is lit the fuck up With people with relationship issues Caller number one, you're on the air Yeah, man, y'all tell me if I'm crazy Because this girl in here trippin' You know what I'm sayin' I'm a real man I take care of my home I take care of my kids I pay all my bills I mean, I ain't gonna lie I may check a little female from time to time on the side You know what I'm talkin' 'bout But what man don't? So how can I break this down to her? Ludacris, how do you feel about This particular situation? Get your money right, ladies Learn to sign your own checks But don't call me after midnight unless we havin' sex Don't ever assume nothin', no Man gon' be a man, A groupie gon' be a groupie A fan gon' be a fan These tricks gon' keep on trickin' Those hustlers gon' keep hustlin' As long as there's new coochie Dogs gon' keep fuckin' So don't be all up in my phone Replyin' to women's pages I thought your mama taught you You should never talk to strangers Don't you ever ask no question That you really don't want the answer to So stop poppin' off at the mouth Like Neno Brown I'll have to cancel you Handle you, stop the ride, leave you on the avenue Half of you always wantin' some nigga to pampa you And that'll do for him, but not for me I'll probably baffle you And if he wants to act a fool I'll show 'em what the gat will do Run along, go find somebody to snitch on or go chit-chatter to Then your name will follow a What ever happened to Exactly, that's just what she need to hear Damn right, player, a'ight, thank you For callin', next caller Yeah, I hear you But let's talk about the fake-ass brothers With the twenty four's, but cannot pay the note on they lease And my nigga with his high style chains And I can't get him to pay his damn child support That's why we makin' mo' money and ownin' our own property And right just as nice, so now I guess if we want to, we can bare ya too now Interestin', Shauna, you wanna Stick on this one? Get your money right niggas Get a bitch that can keep up with you I'm tired of thinking to myself Why in the hell did I ever fuck wit' you Don't step wit' you Sick of your childish games and all the stuff you do I probably mentioned your name But, true to the game, I've had enough of you I've seen your type before Doin' the fours all over the floor He's flashin' his chain's, he's flashin' his dough He drinkin' the fifths, then drinkin' them all But what you don't know, this nigga fraud He can't even afford to smoke Back in the hood all the hustlers and G's know he's a joke That's why I treat a nigga Just when he eat it I tell him 'beat it, nigga Real bitches, true to the game That's how you G, nigga D-T-P stayin' the zone like we own P-C-P Chrome on the S-S Shawn, I blow the P-C-P Y'all niggas ain't on my level, I do it so hood Pineapple and berry weed, we feeling so good Lightning is Sup-doo, I get my own stack That's why I leave them two hundred I never call back That's right Shauna pussy rule the world Yes, it does, next caller What's up? Man, what's up? This is Marv I wanna know the y'all that somebody talk to This triflin'-ass woman like me I'm a good man But all these good men get treated like shit Our friends callin' at 3:30 in the morning Marcus don't wanna talk about no numbers Marcus wanna talk about that ass And I ain't havin' it Ya got someone to talk to These women, because they need to be told I twenty you better Talk to 'em Get your money right, ladies Tell the man to get gone But don't you show up to my crib with your period on This is lesson one, baby Listen, how should I begin? Ain't no such thing as a platonic friend You're lying to yourself if you don't think you want more So don't you call me insecure when he show up at your door You all claim to have substance, self-respect, and some class But half-naked in the club, and steady shaking your ass Screamin' I ain't done enough to touch you under your skirt But who the hell are you to tell me what my money is worth? I'm on the streets and you trippin' I don't make you feel safe I stay at home and you complaining that you think we need space I'm that sayin' that it's fair, but that's the way that it is Ain't no nigga tryin' to marry you with four or five kids It may sound a little harsh, but it's straight from the heart A nigga didn't write the scripts, so I'm just doin' my part Yeah Preach, my brother, preach All you women out there heard that And you better believe they did And some millions of people listening That's our show for this year Good ladies and gentlemen I got to get a piece of ass my damn self A'ight, check at same time, same place, tomorrow Battle of the Sexes Radio Signing off, good night

Comment