Ludacris ft. I-20 - B.O.T.S. Radio Lyrics

Awh yeah
Welcome back to
Battle of the Sexes Radio
Where it is 12:45 in the A.M.
And Disturbing The Peace
Is our in studio guest
Our hot-line is lit the fuck up
With people with relationship issues
Caller number one, you're on the air

Yeah, man, y'all tell me if I'm crazy
Because this girl in here trippin'
You know what I'm sayin'
I'm a real man
I take care of my home
I take care of my kids
I pay all my bills
I mean, I ain't gonna lie
I may check a little female from time to time on the side
You know what I'm talkin' 'bout
But what man don't?
So how can I break this down to her?

Ludacris, how do you feel about
This particular situation?
Get your money right, ladies
Learn to sign your own checks
But don't call me after midnight unless we havin' sex
Don't ever assume nothin', no
Man gon' be a man,
A groupie gon' be a groupie
A fan gon' be a fan
These tricks gon' keep on trickin'
Those hustlers gon' keep hustlin'
As long as there's new coochie
Dogs gon' keep fuckin'
So don't be all up in my phone
Replyin' to women's pages
I thought your mama taught you
You should never talk to strangers
Don't you ever ask no question
That you really don't want the answer to
So stop poppin' off at the mouth
Like Neno Brown I'll have to cancel you
Handle you, stop the ride, leave you on the avenue
Half of you always wantin' some nigga to pampa you
And that'll do for him, but not for me
I'll probably baffle you
And if he wants to act a fool
I'll show 'em what the gat will do
Run along, go find somebody to snitch on or go chit-chatter to
Then your name will follow a
What ever happened to

Exactly, that's just what she need to hear
Damn right, player, a'ight, thank you
For callin', next caller

Yeah, I hear you
But let's talk about the fake-ass brothers
With the twenty four's, but cannot pay the note on they lease
And my nigga with his high style chains
And I can't get him to pay his damn child support
That's why we makin' mo' money and ownin' our own property
And right just as nice, so now
I guess if we want to, we can bare ya too now

Interestin', Shauna, you wanna
Stick on this one?

Get your money right niggas
Get a bitch that can keep up with you
I'm tired of thinking to myself
Why in the hell did I ever fuck wit' you
Don't step wit' you
Sick of your childish games and all the stuff you do
I probably mentioned your name
But, true to the game, I've had enough of you
I've seen your type before
Doin' the fours all over the floor
He's flashin' his chain's, he's flashin' his dough
He drinkin' the fifths, then drinkin' them all
But what you don't know, this nigga fraud
He can't even afford to smoke
Back in the hood all the hustlers and G's know he's a joke
That's why I treat a nigga
Just when he eat it I tell him 'beat it, nigga
Real bitches, true to the game
That's how you G, nigga
D-T-P stayin' the zone like we own P-C-P
Chrome on the S-S Shawn, I blow the P-C-P
Y'all niggas ain't on my level, I do it so hood
Pineapple and berry weed, we feeling so good
Lightning is Sup-doo, I get my own stack
That's why I leave them two hundred
I never call back
That's right Shauna pussy rule the world

Yes, it does, next caller
What's up?

Man, what's up?
This is Marv
I wanna know the y'all that somebody talk to
This triflin'-ass woman like me
I'm a good man
But all these good men get treated like shit
Our friends callin' at 3:30 in the morning
Marcus don't wanna talk about no numbers
Marcus wanna talk about that ass
And I ain't havin' it
Ya got someone to talk to
These women, because they need to be told
I twenty you better
Talk to 'em

Get your money right, ladies
Tell the man to get gone
But don't you show up to my crib with your period on
This is lesson one, baby
Listen, how should I begin?
Ain't no such thing as a platonic friend
You're lying to yourself if you don't think you want more
So don't you call me insecure when he show up at your door
You all claim to have substance, self-respect, and some class
But half-naked in the club, and steady shaking your ass
Screamin' I ain't done enough to touch you under your skirt
But who the hell are you to tell me what my money is worth?
I'm on the streets and you trippin' I don't make you feel safe
I stay at home and you complaining that you think we need space
I'm that sayin' that it's fair, but that's the way that it is
Ain't no nigga tryin' to marry you with four or five kids
It may sound a little harsh, but it's straight from the heart
A nigga didn't write the scripts, so I'm just doin' my part
Yeah

Preach, my brother, preach
All you women out there heard that
And you better believe they did
And some millions of people listening
That's our show for this year
Good ladies and gentlemen
I got to get a piece of ass my damn self
A'ight, check at same time, same place, tomorrow
Battle of the Sexes Radio
Signing off, good night