We Got Lyrics

We Got lyrics

[Ludacris]
DTP we got them guns that go...

[I-20]
Yea I'm all about
that pistol playa, cold blooded killa
Niggaz recognize my name, I dub the
young dealer
You better tell ya man that with the gages I'm nice
Ill
shoot up yall white shirts until yall look like dikes
But I'm through with
all the talking time to show all you niggaz
I 2-0, I'm like J-Lo...going
through niggaz
DTP we aint plying if you try to get our pen
A.K's get ta
spraying like...
Bottom line that mean I'm bout it, any nigga want it, doubt
it
Bust you in the broad day, on the street that's fully crowded
Find our
hole and fagots there, just for thinking its rap
And tell that pretty bitch
thug we got some pretty big gats
Chaka say I'm shot out, and I tend to
agree
So you should what you saying if it's intended for me
So be careful
what you starting, let my fingers do the walking
And that oozy get to talking
like...

[Tity Boi]
Hammers, jam 'em, snatch 'em, grab 'em
Can the
an and fuck 'em, damn 'em
Press him, man him, scared him, teared him, kneed
him up
Bake him, take him, beat him up, I hate I hate, I eat him
up
A-B-C-E-F shawty is you a G or what
Now it's just me and my nuts,
that's all I got in this world
I'm pulling pistols out my stomach and
throwing them bitches up like earl
Serving the club, head shot, scattered,
covered, run, scram 'em
I'm 38, hot with a pearl handle...
And I'm
throwing text like a NBA ref
I got, all gold guns like they came from
I-RAQ
Artillery, could it be I got all kinds of these pistols
I point my
gun at ya homeboy make ya own folks hit ya
And aint taking no more pictures,
if you snap ima click
Anyway, plus I got bullets in the clip the size of Lil
Fate
And I'm webbing choppers like heli-copters
You gon' need hella
doctors, when the glok go...

[Chingy]
Say on the set bitch, better
watch your lip that text be quick
20 over thurr, Tity over thurr, Luda over
thurr, aint no exit trick
Us you don't mess with, we got them guns like
action flicks
Reload with the next clip, I'm the ro nigga to flex with
bitch
Come on and test this, my gun I'm having sex with shit
Put a bullet
in (in) shoot it out, got them long horns like Texas bitch
Look at my
necklace, maybe hit a ngga disrespect this click
My pistol grip sound like
this...now what
Who want that they fucked, when I cock and load the cake,
bust bust
Yall cowards play tough, and my peeps we come to spray stuff
up
Yall lives made up, like ugly hoes with make-up bra
We'll suit you up
then toss yo ass in the lake tough nut
I'm wrist rocky, like Sylvester
Stallone
So thurr for you should invest, in a vest for ya dome
Cause I
know you marks planning on getting me when I'm landing
Beast the nick, but
my cannon go...

[Ludacris]
Fuck a medic, we gon' call yo ass a taxi
cab
Bleedin so hard you'll need a life size maxi pad
So flip the script
and tell your woman its your time on the month
A.K. 47 for the niggaz who's
really looking for heaven and a 9 for you chumps
Got killaz in my squad and
I'm the nicest one in my group
But I got bananas for you niggaz and I aint
talking bout fruit
Ill pay your CAB BACK with the BLACK MACK
Till your
BACK CRACK, got the GAT BACK like...CLAK CLAK CLAK
Swallow a hallow make 'em
digest with a 50 caliber
Yo futures not looking so good, tomorrows not on
your calendar
I, do away with the amateurs, they breathing too long
Ill
leave 'em coughing like the sound effects you hear in this song
My Shotguns
are cold and hard, but my Desert is easy
And my triggers are always talking
about some squeeze me, squeeze me
And for these fakers talking greezy, I'm
starting the show
My Oozy got a drum roll, it goes...