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Lyrics for Cry Babies Oh No by Ludacris:
| | | Artist: | Ludacris |
| | Album: | Word Of Mouf | | Track: | Cry Babies Oh No | | | | Date Added: | 18/10/2007 | | Views: | 105 | | | | Lyrics: | Chorus: Ludacris - repeat 2X]
(Oh No!) I caught him with a blow to the chest
(Oh No!)
My hollow put a hole in his vest
(Oh No!) I'm bout to send two to his dome
(Oh No!) Cry
babies go home!
[Verse One: Ludacris]
I got people scared as FUCK like when
condoms break
Or how your heart deals with eatin' eighty pounds of steak
So put your belly
on a plate and watch your weight
You frostin' like a flake and Ludacris feels grrreat!
Who
want come face me, face come want who?
And women give me face until they're face turns
blue
They can't breathe, dick to mouth recessatation
A tight squeeze witch stops the
length to conversations
I Playstations, duck cops and lose agents
I'm Doctor Love, I close
curtains and fuck patients
When I kick and rip and flip an indespensable rhyme
My black
ass is so hungry I'll take a bite out of crime
And it'll hurt if I swallow, but even more if I
choke
Neighbors called the fire station off the blunt that I smoke
You see I crush
cowards, funerals I'll send flowers
And I'm on the overpass flick pennies at rush
hour
[Chorus]
[Verse Two: Ludacris]
You see I'm ambidextrous I slap
ass with both hands
Delete your first steps, but I'll save the last dance
I just bought
some new guns my mama said it ain't worth it
But I'm at the shooting range just 'cause practice
makes perferct
Bullseye, I stunt growth and stop lives
You run with niggas that's more
chicken then pot pies
Bok bok bok I'm shakin your tale feathers
I got big balls, I'm a SAC
King like Chris Webber
Luda' will take you back to duck hunt and double dribble
When
niggas sold quarters and dimes and smoked nickels
My cars got big TVs and satellites
I got
a Wheel of Fortune 'cause I flipped O's like Vanna White
And the servey says? (Kill a mutha
fucka now)
Could it be off with his head? (Or shoot a mutha fucka down)
Ground round,
ground chuck your ground beef
Bullets gather round then I shoot rounds around
teeth
[Chorus]
[Verse Three: Ludacris]
I kick niggas in they're ass
reboot 'em like laptops
And they wouldn't even box if I gave 'em a flat top
You punks
pucker and pout, bicker and babble
Now they all lost for words like I beat 'em in
Scrabble
You see I'm from a small town called Fresh out a cop's ass
Where Mr.
Head-Potatoes are skinned they get mashed
I smell puss from fifty yards
Y'all not playin
with full decks as if I jacked out ya Jacks and left fifty cards
Catch me in Vegas spinnin' the
green
I re-up with more chips than a vending machine
Then you can catch me in Rome maggots
in brauds and sticking 'em
And you'll be at home picking your bougars and flicking 'em
A
drug dealer's dream, so fresh and I'm so clean
I'm a grown ass man and you're sweeter than
sixteen
So go and kick rocks peons you're just rookies
Headed down stairs to get you some
milk and cookies
[Chorus - 2X | | | |  Reddit | X / Twitter | Facebook | Copy link |
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