Текст (слова) песни: Ludacris - Stick `Em Up

Yeah nigga got that Ludacris
Got that UGK that Disturbing the Peace Click
And you know what i`m tired of?
I`m tired of these flashing ass flossing ass niggas
So if you see one you know what you do?

Chorus:
Stick em up stick em up bitch stick em up
Put ya hands up where I can see em see em see em
Stick em up stick em up bitch stick em up
Target niggas wouldn`t wanna be em be em be em
(repeat)

(Pimp C)
Uh, I want the money and the power they hittin me every hour
For the silt resin powder chasing them dirty dollars
I`m from Texas nigga it get hectic nigga
People depending on me I can`t neglect it niggas
Cause the game is deeper than just working off the beeper
If the paper ain`t right then we calling a sweeper
To clean up the problems and straighten the mess
So nigga come wit ya pistol and nigga come wit ya vest
This ain`t the east or the west the `bama weed or the stress
I`m young pimpathal author and we done passed the test
And we smoking the best everywhere that we go
And when our records come out them bitches sell out the sto`
Stayin throat on the `dro and keep that thang on the flo`
Want my momey up front when we come for the show
Y`all can play wit ya paper but i`m dyin for mine
So while y`all buying them watches i`ma stay on the grind
Fuck Nigga

Chorus

(Ludacris)
Hallow laid hollow sprayed I`m the hollow man
I get to my fuckin point wit my hollow plan
Hollow bullets I pull it i`m about to live in vain
And then I drill em refill em make sure they feel the pain
It`s mighty strange how your peephole is my fuckin gauge
Catch you in concert and then wipe you off the fuckin stage
I feel a ghetto rage let`s turn the ghetto page
My bitch will stick you wit ghetto metal stilleto thangs
And I got a ghetto aim with diamond `bezeled rangs
So while my index is working my pinky`s blinding thangs
I hit em at close range I spit em at most brains
You think you real rich nigga we gonna make some chump change
You think it`s a fucking game you think it`s a blood sport
You gasping for breath and I`m puffin on one of these Newports
And I see a red dot aimed at yo head
Then bright lights oh no po-po and guess what they said
They said

Chorus

(Bun-B)
Say nigga you think it`s a joke?
Trill niggas be going for broke
Twist this whistle loc and them muthafuckin pistols smoke
And it`s just a matter of time before you labeled a busta
I just the nigga that couldn`t catch up and cut the mustard
Now I got confidence I don`t need no condiments
All I need is common sense to see through your incompetence
Nigga keep your compliments they don`t flatter me
And that`ll be the day bitch we don`t play you know where the gat`ll be
huh, right on the side of me (side of me)
Right where it`s `posed to be (`posed to be)
Bitch niggas die for me (die for me)
Just for getting too close to me (close to me)
So kiss your rosery beads and sing a silent one cause
I promise if you get it it`s gone be a violent one
Coroner catching his breath like he`s got asthma
When they cut on the blue light and see all that fucking plasma
Millenium murda master nigga I ain`t new to this
So when you see that Bun-B young pimp or that Ludacris
You just

Chorus

ATL the PAT UGK and DTP
(I wouldn`t wanna be em be em be em)
Shawn Drey I twenty Ludacris and Fake Fees
(I wouldn`t wanna be em be em be em)
Down South how we do it Pimp C and Bun-B
(I wouldn`t wanna be em be em be em)
Roll trees ride D`s make cheese and shake fleas
(I wouldn`t wanna be em be em be em)

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Меню » Главная » Музыка » Правила » В избранное	Музыка RU: 0-9 А Б В Г Д Е Ж З И К Л М Н О П Р С Т У Ф Х Ц Ч Ш Щ Э Ю Я EN: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z Текст (слова) песни: Ludacris - Stick `Em Up Yeah nigga got that Ludacris Got that UGK that Disturbing the Peace Click And you know what i`m tired of? I`m tired of these flashing ass flossing ass niggas So if you see one you know what you do? Chorus: Stick em up stick em up bitch stick em up Put ya hands up where I can see em see em see em Stick em up stick em up bitch stick em up Target niggas wouldn`t wanna be em be em be em (repeat) (Pimp C) Uh, I want the money and the power they hittin me every hour For the silt resin powder chasing them dirty dollars I`m from Texas nigga it get hectic nigga People depending on me I can`t neglect it niggas Cause the game is deeper than just working off the beeper If the paper ain`t right then we calling a sweeper To clean up the problems and straighten the mess So nigga come wit ya pistol and nigga come wit ya vest This ain`t the east or the west the `bama weed or the stress I`m young pimpathal author and we done passed the test And we smoking the best everywhere that we go And when our records come out them bitches sell out the sto` Stayin throat on the `dro and keep that thang on the flo` Want my momey up front when we come for the show Y`all can play wit ya paper but i`m dyin for mine So while y`all buying them watches i`ma stay on the grind Fuck Nigga Chorus (Ludacris) Hallow laid hollow sprayed I`m the hollow man I get to my fuckin point wit my hollow plan Hollow bullets I pull it i`m about to live in vain And then I drill em refill em make sure they feel the pain It`s mighty strange how your peephole is my fuckin gauge Catch you in concert and then wipe you off the fuckin stage I feel a ghetto rage let`s turn the ghetto page My bitch will stick you wit ghetto metal stilleto thangs And I got a ghetto aim with diamond `bezeled rangs So while my index is working my pinky`s blinding thangs I hit em at close range I spit em at most brains You think you real rich nigga we gonna make some chump change You think it`s a fucking game you think it`s a blood sport You gasping for breath and I`m puffin on one of these Newports And I see a red dot aimed at yo head Then bright lights oh no po-po and guess what they said They said Chorus (Bun-B) Say nigga you think it`s a joke? Trill niggas be going for broke Twist this whistle loc and them muthafuckin pistols smoke And it`s just a matter of time before you labeled a busta I just the nigga that couldn`t catch up and cut the mustard Now I got confidence I don`t need no condiments All I need is common sense to see through your incompetence Nigga keep your compliments they don`t flatter me And that`ll be the day bitch we don`t play you know where the gat`ll be huh, right on the side of me (side of me) Right where it`s `posed to be (`posed to be) Bitch niggas die for me (die for me) Just for getting too close to me (close to me) So kiss your rosery beads and sing a silent one cause I promise if you get it it`s gone be a violent one Coroner catching his breath like he`s got asthma When they cut on the blue light and see all that fucking plasma Millenium murda master nigga I ain`t new to this So when you see that Bun-B young pimp or that Ludacris You just Chorus ATL the PAT UGK and DTP (I wouldn`t wanna be em be em be em) Shawn Drey I twenty Ludacris and Fake Fees (I wouldn`t wanna be em be em be em) Down South how we do it Pimp C and Bun-B (I wouldn`t wanna be em be em be em) Roll trees ride D`s make cheese and shake fleas (I wouldn`t wanna be em be em be em) Нравится песня? 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