Ludacris]
Yeah, Welcome to Atlanta, jack and hammer and voges
Back to the mackin' and jackin' the clothes, adolescent packin a fo'
A knock on the do', who is it?
I would happen to know, the one with the flow
Who did it?, it was me I suppose
J-D in the Rollz and Luda's in the Cutt Supreme
Skatin down old Nat, Gat tooked and lean
I split ya spleen, as matter' fact I split ya team
No blood on the sneak's, gottsta keep it so my kicks is clean
I get the cream, cops see me flick my beams
Im allergic to 'doc perscribed anti-histemines
Oink Oink, Pig Pig, do away with the pork
Only siguar needs a steak knife and a fork
Did you forget your fuckin manners, Im loose with banners
Ludacris, Johnny Rockets when i shoot the cannon
The Wooley mammoth saber-tooth, bitch bite your tounge
I wont stop until Im rich as them white-boy come
I pull up in the black Lotus, you're plaque's are bogus
So I stripped them off the wall
Waiting for my cue to corner pocket eight balls
You rackin' 'em up, Im big paper like pancakes, stackin' 'em up
In fact Im slappin' 'em up, Cadallacin' the truck
I cant loose with 22
