Get It Right Lyrics

Get It Right lyrics

f/ Ludacris



[Ludacris]

Uhh...Iight

Ok...

I can see we only messin with big money right about

now

Count that...Ludacris

Roll the dutches, and bust the spades

P-H-I to A-T-L...uh-huh

Bounce bounce, how we gonna do it?

Disturbing the peace, actin in complete Mogey

Whas up?



[Dutch]

I know you bitches smell money

I know you see them wheels on that six hundred

I see you peepin my shine

The way I'm livin, way I'm glisten

I'm a pimp and I can't quit it (nah-ah)

Don't ever forget it

And baby if I'ma digits

I'm hell of persistent

So whether beef or a cellie

Hit me, we could get petty

I turn niggas into veggies 

Over sauce with the spaghetti

I'm raw, you won't forget me wit cars

With two seat Bentleys, I'm all

What could you tell me, two deals under my belly

And anytime its war, I'm down down like Nelly

Throw round rounds and scullies

Smoke pounds pounds of scully

Judges who try to jail me

Suckin dick and watchin tele

I'm gone



[Chorus 2x: Dutch (girl singing)]

Tell me what you want (want)

Tell me what you like (like)

Oh you wanna roll? Let's take a flight (flight)

Everything's all right (its all right)

You with Ludacris and Dutch and Spade tonight (Spade,

Dutch Spade)

Everything is tight

Gotta get it right (all right)

Go get it right, gotta get it right (all right, its all right)



[Spade]

Bounce, if you feelin this here

All my niggas throw your steel in the air

Yo its trouble round here

What you niggas ain't heard?

Spade from the P-H

Major Figgas the word

You niggas fake grind

Y'all sit on the bird

I got work and I'm waitin to serve

It's the herbs on the curb with the word

Wishin I stop

Want war? Load the clip in the glock (ah)

We live in a world where love ain't love

And blood ain't blood, and a thug ain't a thug

Man, I ain't got a thing on this earth

Juvenile incarceration only made me change for the worse

But I'm still alive, and I will survive

Low profile parolees on an all steel five

I'ma maintain, surround myself with real guys

To my niggas on the block on a peal for they lives

I'm gone



[Chorus 2x]



[Ludacris]

Who am I? (ah ah)

The little nigga with the golden touch

L-U to the D-A

And I'm right on time

Mother fuckers wanna hate 

From the people on the top to the P-J's

But I'm out for mine

I give a fuck about you (you), you, him, her

Or that nigga over there

Cause the things that I do (do), do, to him, and her

will have a lot of people scared, so I do what I gots ta

As a College Park mobsta

Eat scrimps and lobsta

But when I rock her

State that I'ma renegade

And your heart pump fos-ter

See a doctor, cardiologist

When you open that, then I'm lockin this

When you recordin that, then I'm droppin this

When you tote that, then I'm cockin this

Nigga what



[Chorus 4x]