Ludacris - Cry Babies Lyrics

(Oh no) I caught him with a blow to the chest
(Oh no) My hollow put a hole in his vest
(Oh no) I'm 'bout to send two to his dome
(Oh no) Cry babies go home
(Oh no) I caught him with a blow to the chest
(Oh no) My hollow put a hole in his vest
(Oh no) I'm 'bout to send two to his dome
(Oh no) Cry babies go home

I got people scared as fuck
Like when condoms break
Or how your heart deals with
Eatin' eighty pounds of steak
So put your belly on a
Plate and watch your weight
You frosted like a flake
And Ludacris feels grrreat!
Who want come face me, face come want who?
And women give me face till
They're face turns blue they can't breathe
Dick to mouth recessatation
A tight squeeze which stops
The length to conversations
I play stations, duck cops and lose agents
I'm Doctor Love
I close curtains and fuck patients
When I kick and rip and
Flip an indespensable rhyme
My black ass is so hungry I'll
Take a bite out of crime
And it'll hurt if I swallow
But even more if I choke
Neighbors called the fire station off
The blunt that I smoke
You see I crush cowards
Funerals I'll send flowers
And I'm on the overpass flick
Pennies at rush hour

(Oh no) I caught him with a blow to the chest
(Oh no) My hollow put a hole in his vest
(Oh no) I'm 'bout to send two to his dome
(Oh no) Cry babies go home
(Oh no) I caught him with a blow to the chest
(Oh no) My hollow put a hole in his vest
(Oh no) I'm 'bout to send two to his dome
(Oh no) Cry babies go home

You see I'm ambidextrous I slap
Ass with both hands delete your first steps
But I'll save the last dance
I just bought some new guns my
Mama said "it ain't worth it"
But I'm at the shooting range
Just cause practice makes perfect
Bullseye, I stunt growth and stop lives
You run with niggas that's more
Chicken then pot pies
Bok bok bok I'm shakin' your tail feathers
I got big balls
I'm a Sac King like Chris Webber
Luda' will take you back to
Duck Hunt and Double Dribble
When niggas sold quarters and
Dimes and smoked nickels
My cars got big TVs and satellites
I got a Wheel of Fortune cause
I flipped O's like Vanna White
And the survey says? (Kill a mutha fucka now)
Could it be off with his head?
(Or shoot a mutha fucka down)
Ground round, ground chuck your ground beef
Bullets gather round then I
Shoot rounds around teeth

(Oh no) I caught him with a blow to the chest
(Oh no) My hollow put a hole in his vest
(Oh no) I'm 'bout to send two to his dome
(Oh no) Cry babies go home
(Oh no) I caught him with a blow to the chest
(Oh no) My hollow put a hole in his vest
(Oh no) I'm 'bout to send two to his dome
(Oh no) Cry babies go home

I kick niggas in they're ass
Reboot 'em like laptops
And they wouldn't even box if I
Gave 'em a flat top
You punks pucker and pout, bicker and babble
Now they all lost for words like
I beat 'em in Scrabble
You see I'm from a small town
Called "Fresh out a cop's ass"
Where Mr head-Potatoes are skinned
They get mashed
I smell puss from fifty yards
Y'all not playin with full decks as if I
Jacked out ya Jacks and left fifty cards
Catch me in Vegas spinnin' the green
I re-up with more chips
Than a vending machine
Then you can catch me in Rome
Mackin' some broads and stickin' 'em
And you'll be at home picking
Your boogers and flicking 'em
A drug dealer's dream
So fresh and I'm so clean
I'm a grown ass man and
You're sweeter than sixteen
So go and kick rocks
Peons you're just rookies
Headed down stairs to get you
Some milk and cookies

(Oh no) I caught him with a blow to the chest
(Oh no) My hollow put a hole in his vest
(Oh no) I'm 'bout to send two to his dome
(Oh no) Cry babies go home
(Oh no) I caught him with a blow to the chest
(Oh no) My hollow put a hole in his vest
(Oh no) I'm 'bout to send two to his dome
(Oh no) Cry babies go home
(Oh no) I caught him with a blow to the chest
(Oh no) My hollow put a hole in his vest
(Oh no) I'm 'bout to send two to his dome
(Oh no) Cry babies go home
(Oh no) I caught him with a blow to the chest
(Oh no) My hollow put a hole in his vest
(Oh no) I'm 'bout to send two to his dome
(Oh no) Cry babies go home