Artist: Ludacris Album: Chicken-N-Beer Song: Southern Fried Intro Typed by: QuriousGeorge7@aol.com [Intro] Hey, yeah! I want all you proud sistas to stand up I want everybody to stand up and be counted tonight Brothers and Sisters if you know you got your thing together I want you to stand on up, now I got somethin' to tell ya' I told ya' how to think about it, now I want to tell how to get the thing together So come on now and get up to it yall [Verse 1] The incredible, untouchable nigga spittin' venom out his body wit' the dopest flows And wonder why the line's around the corner Cuz the little motherfucker has the dopest shows So one time for my independant women and all the single mothers who be gettin' that cake Two times for my dawgs pullin' triggers And my niggaz in the kitchen that be flippin' that weight East coast, west coast, midwest, dirty south Then we took it all around the world I got fans in retirement homes, to teenagers, to little bitty boys ans girls Droppin' lyrical bombs up in ya' hood, Non-stoppin', I'ma hit 'em till the block explode Hip hop, R&B, Pop-tart, what you want? I even got a little rock 'n' roll The most creative, original, got 'em takin' subliminal *Boom boom* cuz they cant get what I gots They want it so bad, four million dollar pad And enough to retire off two albums, gone, wave ya' white flags, I'm hot! And everytime I rhyme I'm puttin' rappers in the ground Wit' lines that got 'em hooked like dope They gotta make up they mind, because they runnin' outta time And I'm about to make 'em choke Better turn your stereo louder, listen up and let me preach Let's get arrested for Disturbin' the Peace! (C'mon) Man! This Disturbin' Tha Peace shit gettin' on my nerves Boy I tell you the truth, know what I'm sayin'? While he doin' shows, I'm in these skreets, know what I'm sayin'? While he on tv, I'm in these skreets And then my broad, my kid walkin' around singin' it Boy, if they sing another verse, boy I swear Know what I'm sayin'? I'm on another level though I gotta car wash, I gotta shop on O' National I got my own record label, you heard of us The Posse Family Cartel, you know what I'm sayin', we real Who this nigga thing he is? [Verse 2] I'ma house hold name, wit' game spittin' outta my mouth at all times I spit it out and about, and spit outta the south,until they recognize the danger signs So feel a tingle in yo' s-spine, by the way I talk And it's pimpin' in my blood, you can tell by the way I walk Ooh lawd, more styles than a barber shop, call the cops People in the way wanna baller block Little do they know that I'm callin' shots And I'm not to be fucked with If you see me comin' 'round the corner, then duck quick, perpetrators can suck dick I tried to tell 'em, but they dont wanna listen I tried to shine 'em, but they dont wanna glisten, while the high hat keeps on tickin' And the kick drum keep on pumpin', I'm dumpin' on the closest fools Cuz rules were made to be broken, but you cant make broken rules Hear what I'm sayin' or heard what I said Hear what they playin', cuz thru this music I'ma still be heard if I'm dead Call ya' producers, cuz I'm hurtin' these beats I said it once, I'll say it twice, biatch, Disturbin' Tha Peace C'mon Yeah, folk The King of the kings has spoken ATL shawty! Hood to hood, block to block We bouta let our nuts hang! Disturbin' Tha Peace! We dont die, we multiply We makin Def Jam history Thanks for gettin' the CD shawty!