Ludacris – B.O.T.S. Radio LyricsFollow
Awww yeah, welcome back to Battle of the Sexes Radio
Where it is 12:45 in the A.M. and Disturbing Tha Peace is our in-studio guest
Our hotline 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 cause this girl in here trippin
Y'knowmsayin? I'm a real man, I take care of her
I take care of my kids, I pay all my bills
I mean I ain't gon' lie, I may check a lil' female from time to time on the side
Y'knowmtalkinbout, but what man don't? So how can I break this down to her?
Ludacris, how do you feel about this particular situation?
[Verse 1: Ludacris]
Yeah, 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, a man gon' be a man
A groupie gon' be a groupie, a fan gon' be a fan
These tricks gon' keep trickin' so hustlers gon' keep hustlin
Long as there's new coochie then dogs gon' keep fuckin
So don't be all up in my phone replying to women's pages
I thought your momma told you, you should never talk to strangers
Don't ever ask no questions that you really don't want the answers to
Stop poppin off at the mouth or like Nino Brown I'll have to cancel you
Handle you, stop the ride, leave you on the avenue
Half of you, always seem to want some nigga to pamper 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 him what the gat'll do
Run along, go find somebody to snitch or go chit-chatter to
Then your name will follow with, Ay! Whatever Happened To..?
(Exactly, that's just what she need to hear)
You damn right playa, aight thank you for callin man
Yeah I hear you but let's talk about the fake-ass brothers
With the 24's but can't pay the note on they lease
And my nigga with his iced-out chain
But I can't get him to pay his damn child support
That's why we makin mo' money, ownin our own property and ride just as nice
So now, I guess if we want to, we can bail y'all too now, huh?
Interesting, Shawnna you wanna speak on this one?
Uhh, yo, get your mind right niggas get a bitch that can keep up wit'chu
I'm tired of thinkin to myself why in the hell did I ever fuck wit'chu
I'm stuck wit'chu, sick of yo' childish games and all the stuff you do
I'll probably mention yo' name but true to the game I've had enough of you
I've seen yo' type befo', throwin yo' funds all over the flo'
He flashin his chains and flashin his dough, he drinkin the fifths and drinkin the Mo'
But what you don't know this nigga broke, he can't even afford to smoke
And back in the hood all the hustlers and G's know he's a joke
That's why I cheat a nigga, just when he eat it I tell him beat it nigga
Real bitches true to the game, that's how you G a nigga
D.T.P. stay in the zone, like we on PCP
Chrome on the SS, Shawnna blow there recently
Y'all niggas ain't on my level, I do it so hood
Pineapple and Belve', we feelin' so good
Lightning is so wood, I get my own stack
That's why I leave him 200 and never call back
(That's right Shawnna, pussy rule the world!)
Yes it does, next caller what's up?
Man what's up, this is Marcus
I wanna know do y'all got somebody to talk to these triflin-ass women?
Like me, I'm a good man, but all these good men get treated like shit!
All friends callin at 3:30 in the mornin
Marcus don't wanna talk about no numbers
Marcus wanna talk about that ass, and I ain't havin it!
Y'all got somebody to talk to these women?
Cause they need to be TAUGHT!
I-20 you better talk to 'em!
Yo, get your money right ladies, tell the man to get gone
But you don't you show up to my crib with your period on
This is lesson one baby, listen, how should I begin?
Um, ain't no such thing as a plutonic friend
You're lying to yourself if you don't think you want mo'
So don't you call me insecure when he show up at your do'
You all claim to have substance, self-respect and some class
But half naked in the club and steady shakin yo' 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 run the streets, and you trippin I don't make you feel safe
I stay at home and you complainin that I think we need space
I'm not sayin that it's fair but it'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! I hope you women out there heard that!)
And you better believe they did, it's millions of people listening
But that's our show for this evening ladies and gentlemen
I gotta go get a piece of ass my damn self, alright? (c'mon baby)
Check us same time, same place tomorrow
"Battle of the Sexes Radio" signing off
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