Everybody Hates Chris
Lyrics
Sing along with me,
[Chorus]
Say fuck you Luda [Repeat: x3]
Yea, I guess that's why everybody hates Chris
Say fuck you Luda [Repeat: x3]
Yea, I guess that's why everybody hates Chris
OK now, this is for the Gs and this is for the hustlers
This is for the diamonds and the watch all clustered
Spread em like mustard, canary yellow
Now women in my face like hello
Yea I'm sort of a big deal
These Giovanni rims are sort of a big wheel
This five course dinner is sort of a big meal
This Bentley GT can make Luda disappear
Faster than David Copperfield motherfucker
I'm talking five star tell is, and penthouse suites
Yea I'm just a playboy between penthouse sheets
Hit the club and go and party with some penthouse freaks
Party with Britney, Lindsay and Paris together
Get in line and buying bottles that's taller than Chris Webber
And making haters sneeze from diamonds and sick leathers
Cause my ice gives em cold like they as if they under the weather
But my women keep me warmer than a polo sweater
[Chorus]
Now I stay fresh to death draped in gangsta fits
Over 12 million sold I drop gangsta hits
Live in mansions and drive around in gangsta whips
You swear I'm bout to get into some gangsta shit
Oh no here comes trouble, my vision is skewed
I can only see in doubles, two models two bottles
That'll pop like bubbles and when I get home
The girls tops lift off like airspace shuttles
60 seconds till blast off
My car got a face lift and took its mask off
Tint so dark it look like I took the glass off
The body was white for 8 weeks
Before I finally decided to take its cast off
Now its blacker than a bottom less pit
You talk shit you'll end up with bottom less lip
I hit a nigga so hard, I'll make him swallow his spit
Then I be wit Bobby V on that anonymous shit
[Chorus]
I go for broke like TLC
The hottest nigga on the mic
Yea I believe that's me
Now all the ladies wanna give a lil' TLC
Cause Luda was set for life after 3 LPs
Yep,
Still counting still climbing the charts
And rappers still talking shit
Like they was rhyming in farts
I cross the finish line twice
They still trying to start
But my infrared beam will make em shine in the dark
[Chorus]
Writer(s): CHRISTOPHER BRIDGES, JOHNNY WILLIAM BRISTOL, SMOKEY ROBINSON
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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