Текст (слова) песни: Ludacris - Southern Fried Intro

[Verse 1]
The incredible, untouchable nigga spittin` venom out his body wit` the dopest flows
And wonder why the line`s around the corner
Cuz the little motherfucker has the dopest shows
So one time for my independant women and all the single mothers who be gettin` that cake
Two times for my dawgs pullin` triggers
And my niggaz in the kitchen that be flippin` that weight
East coast, west coast, midwest, dirty south
Then we took it all around the world
I got fans in retirement homes, to teenagers, to little bitty boys ans girls
Droppin` lyrical bombs up in ya` hood,
Non-stoppin`, I`ma hit `em till the block explode
Hip hop, R&B, Pop-tart, what you want?
I even got a little rock `n` roll
The most creative, original, got `em takin` subliminal
[Boom boom] cuz they cant get what I gots
They want it so bad, four million dollar pad
And enough to retire off two albums, gone, wave ya` white flags, I`m hot!
And everytime I rhyme I`m puttin` rappers in the ground
Wit` lines that got `em hooked like dope
They gotta make up they mind, because they runnin` outta time
And I`m about to make `em choke
Better turn your stereo louder, listen up and let me preach
Let`s get arrested for Disturbin` the Peace! (C`mon)

Man! This Disturbin` Tha Peace shit gettin` on my nerves
Boy I tell you the truth, know what I`m sayin`?
While he doin` shows, I`m in these skreets, know what I`m sayin`?
While he on tv, I`m in these skreets
And then my broad, my kid walkin` around singin` it
Boy, if they sing another verse, boy I swear
Know what I`m sayin`? I`m on another level though
I gotta car wash, I gotta shop on O` National
I got my own record label, you heard of us
The Posse Family Cartel, you know what I`m sayin`, we real
Who this nigga thing he is?

[Verse 2]
I`ma house hold name, wit` game spittin` outta my mouth at all times
I spit it out and about, and spit outta the south,until they recognize the danger signs
So feel a tingle in yo` s-spine, by the way I talk
And it`s pimpin` in my blood, you can tell by the way I walk
Ooh lawd, more styles than a barber shop, call the cops
People in the way wanna baller block
Little do they know that I`m callin` shots
And I`m not to be fucked with
If you see me comin` `round the corner, then duck quick, perpetrators can suck dick
I tried to tell `em, but they dont wanna listen
I tried to shine `em, but they dont wanna glisten, while the high hat keeps on tickin`
And the kick drum keep on pumpin`, I`m dumpin` on the closest fools
Cuz rules were made to be broken, but you cant make broken rules
Hear what I`m sayin` or heard what I said
Hear what they playin`, cuz thru this music I`ma still be heard if I`m dead
Call ya` producers, cuz I`m hurtin` these beats
I said it once, I`ll say it twice, biatch, Disturbin` Tha Peace
C`mon

Yeah, folk
The King of the kings has spoken
ATL shawty! Hood to hood, block to block
We bouta let our nuts hang!
Disturbin` Tha Peace!
We dont die, we multiply
We makin Def Jam history
Thanks for gettin` the CD shawty!

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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 - Southern Fried Intro [Verse 1] The incredible, untouchable nigga spittin` venom out his body wit` the dopest flows And wonder why the line`s around the corner Cuz the little motherfucker has the dopest shows So one time for my independant women and all the single mothers who be gettin` that cake Two times for my dawgs pullin` triggers And my niggaz in the kitchen that be flippin` that weight East coast, west coast, midwest, dirty south Then we took it all around the world I got fans in retirement homes, to teenagers, to little bitty boys ans girls Droppin` lyrical bombs up in ya` hood, Non-stoppin`, I`ma hit `em till the block explode Hip hop, R&B, Pop-tart, what you want? I even got a little rock `n` roll The most creative, original, got `em takin` subliminal [Boom boom] cuz they cant get what I gots They want it so bad, four million dollar pad And enough to retire off two albums, gone, wave ya` white flags, I`m hot! And everytime I rhyme I`m puttin` rappers in the ground Wit` lines that got `em hooked like dope They gotta make up they mind, because they runnin` outta time And I`m about to make `em choke Better turn your stereo louder, listen up and let me preach Let`s get arrested for Disturbin` the Peace! (C`mon) Man! This Disturbin` Tha Peace shit gettin` on my nerves Boy I tell you the truth, know what I`m sayin`? While he doin` shows, I`m in these skreets, know what I`m sayin`? While he on tv, I`m in these skreets And then my broad, my kid walkin` around singin` it Boy, if they sing another verse, boy I swear Know what I`m sayin`? I`m on another level though I gotta car wash, I gotta shop on O` National I got my own record label, you heard of us The Posse Family Cartel, you know what I`m sayin`, we real Who this nigga thing he is? [Verse 2] I`ma house hold name, wit` game spittin` outta my mouth at all times I spit it out and about, and spit outta the south,until they recognize the danger signs So feel a tingle in yo` s-spine, by the way I talk And it`s pimpin` in my blood, you can tell by the way I walk Ooh lawd, more styles than a barber shop, call the cops People in the way wanna baller block Little do they know that I`m callin` shots And I`m not to be fucked with If you see me comin` `round the corner, then duck quick, perpetrators can suck dick I tried to tell `em, but they dont wanna listen I tried to shine `em, but they dont wanna glisten, while the high hat keeps on tickin` And the kick drum keep on pumpin`, I`m dumpin` on the closest fools Cuz rules were made to be broken, but you cant make broken rules Hear what I`m sayin` or heard what I said Hear what they playin`, cuz thru this music I`ma still be heard if I`m dead Call ya` producers, cuz I`m hurtin` these beats I said it once, I`ll say it twice, biatch, Disturbin` Tha Peace C`mon Yeah, folk The King of the kings has spoken ATL shawty! Hood to hood, block to block We bouta let our nuts hang! Disturbin` Tha Peace! We dont die, we multiply We makin Def Jam history Thanks for gettin` the CD shawty! Нравится песня? Расскажи о ней друзьям: Прямая ссылка на текст песни Southern Fried Intro: http://musworld.ru/music/eng/111/1/640.html Все тексты песен: Ludacris » Ludacris - Stand Up » Ludacris - Pick Up The Phone » Ludacris - Get Off Me » Ludacris - Hopeless » Ludacris - Eyebrows Down » Ludacris - Hip Hop Quotables » Ludacris - Fatty Girl (Green`s Fat Albert Mix) » Ludacris - Who Not Me » Ludacris - 2 Fast 2 Furious Soundtrack/Act a Fool 1 » Ludacris - Ho » Ludacris - It Wasn`t Us » Ludacris - Virgo » Ludacris - What`s Your Fantasy (Remix) » Ludacris - Game Got Switched » Ludacris - Coming 2 America » Ludacris - Southern Hospitality » Ludacris - Whats Your Fantasy? » Ludacris - Move Bitch » Ludacris - roll out \| текст песни и табы (аккорды) для бас гитары и Mp3 » Ludacris - Black Man`s Struggle Skit Рекомендуем скачать: » Хай-Фай, Hi-Fi - Я люблю » Хабарова Кира - Жить! » Хабарова Кира - Я не такая » Хромов Юра - БЕЛЫМ ОФИЦЕРАМ ПОСВЯЩАЕТСЯ » Хвостенко Алексей - Стриптиз во вкусе ООН » Хай-Фай, Hi-Fi - Так легко » Хай-Фай, Hi-Fi - Почтовый поезд » Художник - Радиошторм » Хабарова Кира - Ля-мур » Хай-Фай, Hi-Fi - Брат » Хабарова Кира - Кривые ножки » Хвостенко Алексей - Прощание со степью » Хай-Фай, Hi-Fi - Средняя школа №7 (А мы любили) » Хай-Фай, Hi-Fi - Черный ворон » Хромов Юра - ВАСЬКА-ГОЛУБЯТНИК » Хромов Юра - МЫ НЕ ПРОЩАЕМСЯ » Хвостенко Алексей - Симпозион » Хай-Фай, Hi-Fi - В последний раз » Хабарова Кира - Платье из бурды » Хай-Фай, Hi-Fi - 999
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