or
Ludacris

Yeah, ohh
Check me out, look

It goes love, hate, pleasure and pain
Four albums in the can and I'm still in the game
And last album, they don't like me to tell this
Debuted at number one and sold more records than Elvis

That's what they telling me, switch up your melody
Through with misdemeanors, they tryin' to give rappers felonies
So they can lock us up one at a time
But true writers stay free in every one of our lines

And if you not feelin' I'm the cream of the crop
I'll knock rappers off your list 'til I get to the top
Still you lookin' at a man that's financially stable
Only nigga gettin' checks cut from four different labels

That Pillsbury dough, women poke my guts
Still I walk around the streets like I'm broke as fuck
So if you see me in your town and I appear to be moody
It's 'cause I'm thinkin' 'bout plans that's bigger than Serena Booty

Me and Shaka still starving and lookin' for meals
And heads up, Ludacris is almost out of his deal
I'm over ten million sold, every album is crack
And for now I'm 'bout to carry Def Jam on my back

Mad rappers I hear you talkin' way down at the bottom
Though I make big money, still handle small problems
The rambling at the mouth, I don't play that shit
I'm the best and I ain't really got say that shit

Written by MOSLEY, TIMOTHY / BRIDGES, CHRISTOPHER
Published by Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, CARLIN AMERICA INC, EMI Music Publishing

Lyrics Provided By LyricFind Inc.