Ludacris - We Got Lyrics

DTP, we got them guns that go

Yeah, I'm all about that pistol player, cold blooded killer
Niggas recognize my name, I dub the young dealer
You better tell ya man that with the gauges I'm nice
I'll shoot up y'all white shirts until y'all look like dice
But I'm through with all the talkin', time to show all you niggas
I-2-0, I'm like J-Lo, blowin' through niggas (damn)
DTP we ain't playin' if you try to get our pay and AK's get to sprayin' like
Bottom line that mean I'm 'bout it, any nigga want it? Doubt it
Bust you in the broad day, on a street that's fully crowded
Find a hole inside your chest, just for thinkin' it's 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 watch what you sayin' if it's intended for me
So be careful what you startin', let my fingers do the walkin'
And that Uzi get to talkin' like

Hammers, jam 'em, snatch 'em, grab 'em
Can the an and f*ck 'em, damn 'em
Press him, man him, scan him, tan him, heat him up
Bake him, take him, beat him up, I hate a hater, I eat him up
A-B-C-D-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 pullin' pistols out my stomach and throwin' them bitches up like hurl
Servin' the club, head shot, scattered, covered, run, scram 'em
I'm 38 hot with a pearl handle
And I'm throwin' techs like a NBA ref
I got, all gold guns like they came from Iraq
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 they ain't takin' no more pictures, if you snap I'ma click
Anyway, plus I got bullets in the clip the size of Lil Fate
And I'm wavin' choppers like helicopters
You gon' need hella doctors, when the Glock go

Uh, say on the set bitch, better watch your lip that TEC spit quick
20 over thurr, Tity over thurr, Luda over thurr, ain't no exit trick
Us you don't mess with, we got them guns like action flicks
Reload with the next clip, I'm the wrong nigga to flex with bitch
Come on and test this, my gun I'm havin' 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 nigga disrespect this click
My pistol grip sound like this, now what?
Who want they day f*cked, when I cock, unload the K, bust bust
Y'all cowards play tough, and my peeps we come to spray stuff up
Y'all lives made up, like ugly hoes with make-up bruh
We'll shoot you up then toss yo' ass in the lake tough nut
My wrist rocky like Sylvester Stallone
So therefore you should invest, in a vest for your dome
'Cause I know you marks plannin' on gettin' me when I'm landin'
Peace to Nick, but my cannon go

F*ck 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 of the month
AK-47 for the niggas who's really lookin' for heaven and a 9 for you chumps
Got killers in my squad and I'm the nicest one in my group
But I got bananas for you niggas and I ain't talkin' 'bout fruit
I'll peel your cap back with the black MAC
'Til your back crack, cock the gat back like (clack-clack-clack)
Swallow a hollow make 'em digest with a .50 caliber
Your futures not lookin' so good, tomorrows not on your calendar
I do away with the amateurs, they breathin' too long
I'll leave 'em coughin' 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 talkin' about some, "Squeeze me, squeeze me"
And for these fakers talkin' greazy, I'm startin' the show
My Uzi got a drum roll, it goes