Catch Up

[Chorus: Ludacris]

All this drinking gon' catch up

And all this smoking gon' catch up

But some niggas just really don't give a fuck

Some niggas just really don't give a fuck

And all this drinking gon' catch up

And all this smoking gon' catch up

But some bitches just really don't give a fuck

Some bitches just really don't give a fuck

[Verse 1: Ludacris]

Now let me be quite frank

'Cause I'm that crazy nigga Luda

Always got a drink

And I'm steady smoking buddah

I do the

Evil that men do when I get you

I'ma sit you down

Then take it to the mental's essential and clown

Every chance I get

Bitch I'm hit

Not by no bullet or no pellet

But the smoke from the canna-bi-as, shiyat

I might just be too high

Then I put my middle finger up when I'm ridin' by

And say hi to plenty liquors and I know it's a sin

And if ya tell me stop drinking I'll just do it again

So when I get old I'ma rock, roll, shake, and shiver

With some blacked out lungs and a fucked up liver

[Chorus: Ludacris]

All this drinking gon' catch up

And all this smoking gon' catch up

But some niggas just really don't give a fuck

Some niggas just really don't give a fuck

And all this drinking gon' catch up

And all this smoking gon' catch up

But some bitches just really don't give a fuck

Some bitches just really don't give a fuck

[Verse 2: Fate Wilson]

Ayo, I do this for bluntheads and whinos

Stewart Ave. hoes

Niggas from G-Ro committed to slanging blo

Doublin' dough 24-7

Fuck po-po's I'm blowin' dro out the Ac Legend

Runnin wit 2 strike felons

And I pack 4-4's like Hank Aaron

Then'll smoke a L

Bust shells

And dare ya to tell

Walk up in the club

Pretty thug

Fucked up off headshots

Sippin' Courvousier watchin' hoes drop it like it's Hot

Shaking tits and twats

Placing big face 20's and cock

Loading clips and Glocks

Knowing we got the haters hot

The ballin' don't stop

Just drop more G's on drink and drugs

Live it up young nigga since it's gon' catch up

[Chorus: Ludacris]

All this drinking gon' catch up

And all this smoking gon' catch up

But some niggas just really don't give a fuck

Some niggas just really don't give a fuck

And all this drinking gon' catch up

And all this smoking gon' catch up

But some bitches just really don't give a fuck

Some bitches just really don't give a fuck

[Verse 3: I-20]

Now with the help of Hen and Coke

I grab my pad and pen and wrote

Something that I knew was dope

And represent for my kinfolk

Pimp a ho until she broke

Wit mo lines than chopped coke

Ey yo it's 2-0 I'm Eastside's King

But I'm a writer with a twist of Amaretta

My shit even come out better

Grab a blunt put it together

What a nigga really need

Run up in the club and blow a motherfucker til he Bleed

Could it be an Icehouse put his lights out

Or the club get closed out

If it's hoes out I show out

Call Tauheed get Dro'd out

There's no doubt I love my life

Love the light

Love to write

Love the mic

So take a drag

Grab a bag and match up

Hennessey and bad weed

Believe me it catch up

[Chorus: Ludacris]

All this drinking gon' catch up

And all this smoking gon' catch up

But some niggas just really don't give a fuck

Some niggas just really don't give a fuck

And all this drinking gon' catch up

And all this smoking gon' catch up

But some bitches just really don't give a fuck

Some bitches just really don't give a fuck

[Outro: I-20 & Man]

Get it right

Ludacris, F.A.T.E. Fullster, Infamous 2-0, ATL

We are the dirty south's dirtiest

Disturbing tha Peace

Hey bring on the bitches