Ludacris Featuring Ugk Stick `em Up Lyrics

Stick `em Up Lyrics

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)