Ludacris - Everybody Hates Chris Lyrics


Ludacris Lyrics

Everybody Hates Chris Lyrics
Sing along with me,

Say f**k you Luda [x3]

Yea, I guess that's why everybody hates Chris

Say f**k you Luda [x3]

Yea, I guess that's why everybody hates Chris

Ok now, this is for the Gs and this is for the hustlers
This is for the diamonds and the watch all clustered
Spread em like mustard, canary yellow
Now women in my face like hello
Yea I'm sort of a big deal
These Giovanni rims are sort of a big wheel
This five course dinner is sort of a big meal
This Bentley GT can make Luda dissapear
Faster than David Copperfield mothaf**ka

I'm talkin five star tellis, and penthouse suites
Yea I'm just a playboy between penthouse sheets
Hit the club and go and party with some penthouse freaks
Party with Britney, Lindsay and Paris together

Get in line and buyin' bottles that's taller than Chris Webber
And makin haters sneeze from diamonds and sick leathers
Cause my ice gives em cold like they as if they under the weather
But my women keep me warmer than a polo sweater

[Chorus:]
Now I stay fresh to death draped in gangsta fits
Over 12 million sold I drop gangsta hits
Live in mansions and drive around in gangsta whips
You swear I'm bout to get into some gangsta shit

Oh no here comes trouble, my vision is skewed
I can only see in doubles, two models two bottles
That'll pop like bubbles and when I get home
The girls tops lift off like airspace shuttles

60 seconds till blast off
My car got a face lift and took it's mask off
Tint so dark it look like I took the glass off
The body was white for 8 weeks
Before I finally decided to take it's cast off
Now it's blacker than a bottom less pit
You talk shit you'll end up with bottom less lip
I hit a n***a so hard, I'll make him swallow his spit
Then I be with Bobby V on that anonymous shit

[Chorus]

I go for broke like TLC
The hottest nigga on the mic
Yea I believe that's me
Now all the ladies wanna give a lil TLC
Cause Luda was set for life after 3 LPs

Yep

Still countin still climbin the charts
And rappers still talkin shit
Like they was rhymin in farts
I cross the finish line twice
They still tryin to start
But my infrared beam will make em shine in the dark

[Chorus]
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