Upsetting
Tuesday, September 20, 2005
 
Yeah, uh huh, okay

Once upon a time in College Park
Where they live life fast and they scared of dark
There was a little nigga by the name of Cris
Nobody paid him any mind, no one gave a shit

Knowing he could rap, no one lifted a hand
So he went about his business and devised a plan
Made a CD and then he hit the block
50 thousand sold, seven dollars a pop

Hold the phone, three years later
Stepped out the swamp with ten and a half gators
All around the world on the microphone
Leaving the booth smelling like Burberry cologne
Still riding chrome
Got bitches in the kitchen Never home alone

And he's on the grind
Please let me know if he's on your mind
And respect you'll give me
Ludacris, I live loud just like Timmy
Fuck, have to clear these rumors
I got a headache and it's not a tumor

Get up on my lap and get my head sucked tight
Sprayed so I never let the bed bugs bite
Hard to the core, core to the right
Drop down, turn around, pick a bale of cotton
 
Formerly GOD'S LONELY MAN

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