Ft. Ludacris
(Chorus)
In the streets I'm peepin game
I can't trust you, no no
All up in my business mayne
I stay on the low low
Say they really really fake
Can't mess wit you no mo'
Closest people to you hate
So I be rollin solo
I'm creepin on the low low
Creepin on the low low
Creepin on the low low
I be rollin, I be rollin solo
I'm creepin on the low
Creepin on the low low
Creepin on the low low
I be rollin, I be rollin solo
I'm creepin on the low
Verse 1: (Chamillionaire)
Mo' money yeah mo' problems
What Biggy said it look like it true
Used to be my homeboy
But now I'm paid so they tryna sue
My garage got jaguars
My garage look like a zoo
Middle finger up for the haters
Hope the hater here isn't you
Super cool, that's real cool
You can feel like you gotta friend
But I aint trusing my money counter
And that's the reason I count again
You saw the Forbes (yeah)
I'm suspicious
Thinking everybody wanna take my riches
Can't take my money out my account
Cause my bank teller get motion sickness
Back and forth, b-back and forth
From in the streets or right back in court
Candy car built like a tank
And my crib built like a fort
Lets go to war
I aint George bush
I promise ya'll I'm gone be prepared
Cause I aint trusting my weapon either
And that's the reason I keep a spare
(Chorus)
Verse 2: (Chamillionaire)
I aint hangin with none of ya'll
Outkast like 3 thou'
Win the Grammy thank
God and family
And all of ya'll I'm gone leave out
If you don't like it then peace out
Look around and I see doubt
I've been known to get to the presidents
Like Barack was on speed dial
Yeah it's all about me now
Don't want ya and don't need ya
You don't grind and get to the money
And you aint hungry I wont feed ya
I aint hangin with no hater
No faker
No diva
I made it big and they say they did
And tryna take my credit like stole Visa
If it's lonely at the top (top)
I'd rather be alone
Cause the closest people to ya
The ones who gonna do ya wrong
Backstabbing me for a broad
I promise that I will lose no sleep
Cause Jenny Craig can be your freak
But my bank account gone stay obese
(Chorus)
Verse 3: (Ludacris)
I be, creeping lower than low
Light another blunt I'm smoking the dro
Choking, loking, never provoke him
And the trunk will get popped and I'll open the do'
Lungs full of smoke
Got me slower than slow
Feel like I'm trapped and there's nowhere to go
So I, just pull out the bazooka (blah)
Put a fuckin hole in the flo
(LUDA! )
I'm so dope with the flow
Trunk full of speakers, pocket full of bud
How much would a wood chuck chuck
If a wood chuck could chuck wood grain
Gripping on the wheel
Turn it turn it
Blow another stack
I earned it earned it
Blow another amp
Pull another tram
Light another blunt
Burn it burn it
Flame it up
Hear my flow, I changed it up
Everybody grab your gats
And hold em, load, sock em, lock em, cock em
And aim it up
Bang it up
Off in the sky
Catch me rollin off in the ride
26 inches
Leave em defenseless
45 always tucked in the side
Open your eyes
See me cruisin
Cause I keep winning and these boys keep losing
Plus I'm, the pimp of the year
Playas is hatin and ho's is choosing
Look at all the ho's you losing
Then look at all the game I got
And you can catch me creepin on the low low
Luda ridin solo, beatin the block!
(Chorus)
