Southern Gangsta (feat. Rick Ross, Playaz Circle & Ving Rhames)

He's a hustler, unbound by law

A self-made millionaire

With a reckless disregard for the haters

Ludarcis, on Southern Gangsta

A true entrepre-negro

CEO of Disturbing The Peace Records

He expanded his empire into multiple profitable businesses

Including his Thai food restaurant, Straits

Internet sites, wemix.com

And my favorite, myghetto.com

The MVP of this rap shit

Luda, I'm a hustler baller, gangsta, cap peeler

I stay strapped like your neighborhood trap dealer

I got rifles that blow ya below your bible belt

And MAC-11s that leave you wetter than Michael Phelps

But you'll be swimming with the fishes

Softer than bitches washing dishes, fool, what's the business

I'm already rich, so talk more figures

Spent 30 large for cigars on you hoe ****

I got gangstas that'll rearrange your whole face

And put your casket on ice, now that'a cold case

Never forget where you come or that the block will bang you

I keep my ear to the streets like a cocker spaniel

I'll cock and blast you into outer space

Break every bone in ya, you so out of place

Boom without a trace, you a bluff to block

I got some red beams, let's play connect the dots

He's the biggest boss coming outta the M I yayo

Straight from the port of Miami to keepin' it trilla

Involved in many heated acts of violence

This goes deeper than rap shit, he's worth eight figures

So young ****, boss up

I present to you, Rick Ross, the boss

I got a letter from the government the other day

I opened and read it, it said we were hustlers

Had a Lexus at 18, picture that

Got a Chevy with pictures on it from pitching crack

Bitch, I know Haitians, we speaking Creole

Bitch I'm a D boy, still slanging kilos

I got 20 cars, why exaggerate

It cost me five grand just to fill the gas tanks

Love the marble floors, got the Greek pillars

Fronting at awards, real street ****

I used to serve shake, now I serve steaks

Three squares on a roll, call it third base

Get the gas face chopper in your laugh face

Shoot his ass, claim defense is the last case

Keep Jewish friends, the newest Benz

You in a pool of blood, let me see you swim

Hailing from College Park, Georgia

Authorities figured they must have been some sort of mob

Or illegal organization, according to authorities

They made a quarter mill a week selling wheat grain

They were some high rolling hustlers

Tity Boi, and Dolla Boy

Playaz Circle, aka the Duffle Bag Boys

Uh, I'm so sick I wrote this verse in a hospital

It's an election year, I support struggle

We roll like bicycles, icicle flow

White liquor, my **** stay on line with the blow

I'm on time with the flow, not a minute nor a second late

Ain't no such thing as second place

And everyday I live heavyweight, you **** featherweight

Fairytale telling **** really need to take a break

And the estate got a lake for a backyard

The pool room Prada, I put it all on my Saks card

For real? Yeah, for real

I'm ill, I deal, I did, I win

I got dogs like Kujo, me and Tity two chains riding in a two door

Bitches catch Kudos, you know

Yeah we move weight like sumo and kicks it with them bitches like judo

Southside

Playaz Circle, Rick Ross, Ludacris

This has been another episode of Southern Gangsta

Thanks for tuning in, what's next for Luda?

Well, anything's possible in the theater of the mind