Ludacris

I done sold over twenty million records

I could really give a fuck about retail (history’s been made)

My chick bad, my chick hood

My chick do stuff that your chick wish she could

Back to put rappers on one knee like they ‘bout to run 100 meter dash

Bow down to greatness

«I grew up a fucking screw-up

Got introduced to the game, to the game then fucking blew up»

Yeek yeek! (woop, woop) why you all in my ear?

Talking a whole bunch of shit that I ain’t trying to hear!

I’m young, wild, and strapped like Chi-Ali

BLAOW, we ain’t got nothing to worry about

Tell me who’s your weed man, and how do you smoke so good?

You’s a superstar, boy, why you still up in the hood?

I wanna get you in the Georgia Dome on the 50-yard line

While the Dirty Birds kick for t’ree