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[Verse 1: Ludacris]
Look, I make my own decisions, learn from my own mistakes
My enemies they want beef but don’t know what’s at stake
I started out with nothing, just a dream and some hope
I fiend for riches like them crackheads fiend for the dope
I went from freeze tag to holding some weed bags
To a clown of hoes juggling my bean bags
I went from spin the bottle to kiss the model
Take 3 more seconds we gon’ find out if she spits or swallows
I heard it’s a recession, while you hardly survive
The hardest decision of my day is which car I’mma drive

Rolls Royce Phantom, maybe the gold Ac'
Or the origami Ferrari the way it fold back
This ain’t no 760, bitch this a Alpina
Custom kits, chrome lips as deep as vagina
And women lost for words, guess they don’t know English
No matter what language they speak, they all know dinglish


[Hook: Ludacris] x2
Don’t you understand with this blunt in my hand (I’m on fire)
Smoke, smoke, smoke sum’n
Don’t you understand with the world in my hand if I hate the shit
(How am I to know)

[Verse 2: Ludacris]
Now as the world turns, spinning on its axis
My dick be brushing women’s lips like chapstick
They say it’s cold outside
So like a dentist, I’m just trying to keep they mouth wide
Reminiscing on my days on the south side
I made Nene leak and I ain’t talking ‘bout no housewives

From eating canned tuna to shoe deals with Puma
From women saying “Hey Chris” to “Goddamn Luda!”

From playing slap box to making the ‘Lac drop
To white neighbors all swear I’m slanging crack rock
Eyes so low, they think I’m Asian when I’m blazing
Cuz that purple’s on my chest like I’m playing for the Ravens
Cadillac Deville still rolling ‘til the tires flat
Not from Arizona but I swear I want that diamond back

Sunroof top, wood grain wheel
I signed for millions, y’all will never get the same deal

[Hook] x2

[Verse 3: Big KRIT]
I got a candy coated fetish, ho don’t you forget
Well bi-bi-bi-bi let me wet it
It’s that K-R-I-T stay beside me, we can go get this dough
That mean you mine if you show me you down, I promise I won’t let you go
I got a old school and that bass beat, if it ain’t on chrome then it ain’t me
Have my mouth piece colder than the A/C
So call me father winter in the peak of summer, I spit December
Breaking backs til they crack and limber, If that’s yo bitch she can’t remember
I give her wood, she holler timber
In the paint, I play the center – of attention
Take the vision of a player with (?) intentions to be richer, well I hate you missed it
Back again, one more time for them fuck niggas and them thoroughbred that won’t fuck with him
And hang on cuz I stuck with them
I ain’t got time to waste ho, didn’t have shit now I make more than I can barely count
Keep a thoroughbred shaking what the good Lord gave her, yo chick ass barely bouncing
We still live from the underground, ain’t nothing change to me
I put it down for the south and embody everything that these lame niggas claim to be
Young Krizzle!

[Hook] x2

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