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
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(Chorus)
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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