Coming 2 America

Lyrics

[Production by Bangladesh] [Intro] The royal penis is clean, your highness Thank you, king shit Yeah, motherfuckers, welcome to the United States of America! Time to roll out the red carpet on y'all bitch asses! Hailin' from the filthy, dirty South, where the kings lay Ludacris, Disturbing Tha Peace family. Recognize royalty when you hear it The throne has been taken, so kiss this nigga's earring Luda, throw some grapes on these peasants [Verse 1: Ludacris] These bitches throwin' rose petals at my feet mayne! They wanna spoil me, treatin' me like royalty What am I 'sposed to do? It's such a sweet thang Work that track, whip 'em like Kunta That's why they stay down, they loyal citizens of Zamunda By way of ATL; if you disagree Don't even look at me ho don't pass go just go straight to jail With no probation or bail, but this ain't Monopoly It's Jolly Green Giants 'cause we smoke so much broccoli Uh-oh, Spaghetti-O's! Luda's oodles of noodles And testing me, is like pit bulls put up to poodles My rap career goes back further than your father hairline It's ludicrous - I pack more nuts than Delta Airlines I'm fly, even when I get high I work cash And even got my coach bumped up to first class I'm boss to all employees - and I'm here to teach the principle 'Cause I've been saved by mo' bells than Lark Voorhies [Interlude] Man, fuck that nigga 'Cris, man, for real, man! I'm tired of this shit, man! Man, I try to rap for the nigga, I try to get on a nigga tracks He ain't hearin' my shit. Man, for real Man, my four-year-old son can rap better than that nigga Man, that nigga garbage. Man, I got talent too, the nigga ain't hearin' me Man, is this shit on? 'Cris, c'mon, 'Cris. 'Cris, f'real, man Fuck you, nigga, man, fuck you! [Verse 2: Ludacris] Fuck you too! What you wanna do?! Scrawny nigga, but I got a arsenal of automatics down to .22s Know how to use 'em, fight dirty as shit I throw a grenade and all-in-one bury a clique You see, y'all got it all wrong like women in tuxedos And comin' up shorter than five Danny DeVitos I'm on a cool ranch, get laid more than Fritos With five strippers, four wives and three amigos I go scuba divin' in Bays at Montego I find gold links and snatch 'em, like I'm Deebo But I'm the light-skinte-ted version of Mandingo I've seen more Beatles and Jagged Edges than Ringo I used to run numbers in line they caled me bingo 'Cause I'm big, you a little star, you just twinkle Old asses like sharpeis, y'all all wrinkled And I stay with more bullets, than yo' Billboard singles [Interlude] Ho, that is just too much. You just gotta give applause He is definitely all f'real - yaseeI'msayin'? Ha-ha I be fuckin' with him all the time, yahhmean? I'm sayin', I used to just serve homes herb, now how come through, he want 50's a purple He want quarters a purple now. I want y'all to trip with it Man, I done sold him a QP last week of the flava, yaseewhatI'msayin'? [Verse 3: Ludacris] Yeah, can I get a little hit of that, little nigga with a bigga sack C.P. set a bigger trap look at that Godby Road and Old Nat Where they kick it at? And a lot of people just don't know Shady Park you heard just don't go Quick to flip the bird up po'-po' Makin' the way for that rodeo, that rodeo show! Gotta hit 'em with a reload, I gotta put 'em with the people I gotta make a nigga stop, drop, roll - oh no where the beat go? Bring that, shit back, didn't wanna hear that, clik-clak Tons of fun with guns Fuck all the lil' chit-chat get back get that get that Who knows, who goes there? Motherfuckers it's Poppa Bear Stop and stare; pourin' out a lil' gasoline and then drop a flare I'm on, fire! And you know I can't stop 'til I re-tire! Oh no, we stay swoll, rollin' on Vogue tires! Right down the avenue, passin' you rapidly stackin' In the back of the Cadillac and packin' emergency action Camera, light-lights! Throwin' a punch and then fight-fight! Packin' a lunch and then bite-bite! ATL stay tight-tight! [Outro] I'm just tryin' to save ya shorty! I'ma let you know it's real down heah! When you ride down that 285 and you go past Cascade, get ready to go past that Campbellton Road 'fore you get it to Camp Creek, shorty, just shake 'Cause dat where dem real niggas at! I ain't lyin' when you in Decatur and you flossin' down Glenwood, Candler Road or Rainbow, nigga, shaaake 'Cause dat where dem real niggas at! When you're goin' down that Ol' Nat Hill and you pass dat second Waffle House 'fore you get to the rich niggas, shaaake 'Cause dat where dem real niggas at! Matter of fact, just shake when ya get to Georgia, nigga!