The Potion

Whattup? Hey shawty what it is? Whattup? Hey shawty what it is? Whattup? Hey shawty what it is? Lil' buddy what you want? Some violent shit! Two step and lay back, still whylin shit Whattup? Hey baby I got the potion Take a sip of this and put your back in motion Man I'm like a needle in a haystack, so face that Go back to the drawin board, connect dot, but can't drink that Matter fact erase that, cause on this great track Get your face slapped, and I'm straight so don't take that Try somethin different and shit, so listen and shit Speakin about what hip-hop is missin and shit I'm bout to fill a void, Ludacris born in Illinois Raised in Atlanta, tote hammer since I was a little boy Ain't nobody like me, say they wanna fight me Fight me, step to me now but it ain't likely People swear they psych me, just cause he's light-skinneded with braids in his hair don't mean that nigga looks like ME Trick get your mind right, livin in the limelight So picture what they'll do for my jimmy and a Klondike Bar, bar, hardy har Tell yo' momma I'm a ghet-to su-per-star Only standin five eight but still a big shot, plus I got a big.. Clean everyday, stay fresher than what's in a Ziplock Tell your man to kick rocks, when I make my pitstops I'm in, then it's hard to get me out like I'm a slip knot Born to be a leader and not, no not a follower Only hang with chicks that got mo' twists than Oliver Not much of a hollerer, but I'd like to borrow her lips Bringin out the best in me 'specially if she a swallower Freaky deaky yellow man, and I'm sayin hello man To all the lovely ladies that like to jiggle like Jello man Bigger booty small waist, put 'em in a small place And if it ain't no ass where I'm at, then I'm in the wrong place Bail like a bondsman, but keep 'em dancin Got pop potential, stay black like Bob Johnson Who the hell is that in that fancy car? Tell yo' momma I'm a ghet-to su-per-star And jump down turn around, pick a bail of cotton Jump down turn around, pick a bail of hay Oh lordy, pick a bail of cotton Oh lordy, pick a bail of hay Jump down turn around, pick a bail of cotton Jump down turn around, pick a bail of hay Oh lordy, pick a bail of cotton Oh lordy, pick a bail of hay Still workin like a slave, learnin tricks of the trade In a ghetto state of mind, say I'm rich and I'm paid Pickin records like cotton in the thick of the day 'til I'm spoiled and I'm rotten in a sinister way Life no different than those on minimum wage More money but still locked in a similar cage Either losers of tomorrow or we winners today Digest that and there's really nothin missin to say but