Cry Babies (Oh No)
 作词 : BRIDGES, CHRISTOPHER BRIAN/DEAN, KASEEM
 作曲 : Bridges, Dean
(Oh no ) I caught him with a blow to the chest
(Oh no ) my hollow put a hole in his vest
(Oh no ) I'm bout to send two to his dome
(Oh no ) cry babies go home

I got people scared as **** like when condoms break
Or how your heart deals with eatin' eighty pounds of steak
So put your belly on a plate and watch your weight
You frostin' like a flake and ludacris feels grrreat
Who want come face me  face come want who
And women give me face until they're face turns blue
They can't breathe  **** to mouth recessatation
A tight squeeze witch stops the lengthy conversations
I playstations  duck cops and lose agents
I'm doctor love  i close curtains and **** patients
When i kick and rip and flip an indespensable rhyme
My black ass is so hungry i'll take a bite out of crime
And it'll hurt if i swallow  but even more if i choke
Neighbors called the fire station off the blunt that i smoke
You see i crush cowards  funerals i'll send flowers
And i'm on the overpass flick pennies at rush hour

You see i'm ambidextrous i slap ass with both hands
Delete your first steps  but i'll save the last dance
I just bought some new guns my mama said it ain't worth it
But i'm at the shooting range just 'cause practice makes perferct
Bullseye  i stunt growth and stop lives
You run with ****** that's more chicken then pot pies
Bok bok bok i'm shakin your tale feathers
I got big balls  i'm a sac king like chris webber
Luda' will take you back to duck hunt and double dribble
When ****** sold quarters and dimes and smoked nickels
My cars got big tvs and satellites
I got a wheel of fortune 'cause i flip hoes like Vanna White
And the servey says  (kill a mutha ***** now)
Could it be off with his head  (or shoot a mutha ***** down)
Ground round  ground chuck your ground beef
Bullets gather round then i shoot rounds around teeth
I kick ****** in they're ass reboot 'em like laptops
And they wouldn't even box if i gave 'em a flat top
You punks pucker and pout  bicker and babble
Now they all lost for words like i beat 'em in scrabble
You see i'm from a small town called fresh out a cop's ass
Where mr  head-potatoes are skinned and get mashed
I smell puss from fifty yards
Y'all not playin with full decks as if
I jacked out ya jacks and left fifty cards
Catch me in vegas spendin' the green
I re-up with more chips than a vending machine
Then you can catch me in rome makin some brauds and sticking 'em
And you'll be at home picking your bougars and flicking 'em
A drug dealer's dream  so fresh and i'm so clean
I'm a grown ass man and you're sweeter than sixteen
So go and kick rocks peons you're just rookies

Headed down stairs to get you some milk and cookies