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Ludacris - Catch Up Lyrics |
| Submitted by: AUTO-ADD |
| Current Rating: None | All this drinking gon catch up
And all this smoking gon
catch up
But some niggaz just really don't give a fuck
But some niggaz
just relly don't give a fuck
And all this drinking gon catch up
And
all this smoking gon catch up
But some bitches just really don't give a
fuck
But some bitches just really don't give a
fuck
[Ludacris]
Now let me be quite Frank
Cause I'm that
crazy nigga Luda
Always got a drink
And I'm steady smoking buddah
I do
the
Evil that'll bend you when I get you
I'mma sit you down
Then take
it to the mental and essential and clown
Every chance I get
Bitch I'm
hit
Not by no bullet or no pellet
But the smoke from the can a beer
shit
I might just be too high
Then I put my middle finger up when I'm
ridin' by
And say hi to plenty liquors and I know it's a sin
And if ya
tell me stop drinking I'll just do it again
So when I get old I'mma rock,
roll, shake, and shiver
With some blacked out lungs and a fucked up
liver
[Chorus]
[Infamous 2-0]
Ey yo I do this for
bluntheads and whinos
Steward Ave. Homes
Niggaz from G-Ro committed to
slanging blo
Doublin' dough 24-7
Fuck po-po's I'm blowin' dro out the Ac
Legend
Runnin wit 2 strike felons
And I pack 4-4's like Hank
Aaron
Then'll smoke a L
Bust shells
And dare ya to tell
Walk up in
the club
Pretty thug
Fucked up off head shots
Sippin' Courvousier
watchin' hoes drop it like it's
hot
Shaking tits and twats
Placing big
face 20's and cock
Loading clips and glocks
Knowing we got the haters
hot
The ballin' don't stop
Just drop more G's on drink and drugs
Live
it up young nigga cause it's gon' catch
up
[Chorus]
[F.A.T.E.]
Now wit the help of Hen
and Coke
I grab my pen and pad and wrote
Something that I knew was
dope
And represent for my kinfolk
Pimp a hoe until she broke
Wit mo
lines than chopped coke
Ey yo it's 2-0 I'm Eastside's King
But I'm a
writer with a twist of Amaretta
My shit even come out better
Grab a blunt
put it together
What a nigga really need
Run up in the club and blow a
motherfucker til he
bleed
Could it be an Icehouse put his lights out
Or
the club get closed out
If it's hoes out I show out
Call Tyheed get Dro'd
out
There's no doubt I love my life
Love the light
Love to
write
Love the mic
So take a drag
Grab a bag and match up
Hennessey
and bad weed
Believe me it catch
up
[Chorus]
[F.A.T.E.]
Git it right
Ludacris,
F.A.T.E. Fullster, Infamous 2-0, ATL
We are the dirty south's dirtiest.
Disturbing the peace.
[White guy]
Hey bring on the bitches!!
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