damnlyrics.com

Crack A Bottle (Featuring Dr.Dre & 50 Cent)

Ladies and gentlemen

The moment you've all been waiting for,

In this corner, weighing a hundred and seventy five pounds,

With a record of seventeen rapes, four hundred assaults, and four murders,

The undisputed, most diabolic villain in the world

Slim Shady!So crack a bottle, let your body waddle

Don't act like a snobby model you just hit the lotto

O-oh o-oh, bitches hopping in my Tahoe

Got one riding shotgun and no not one of them got clothes

Now where's the rubbers? Who's got the rubbers?

I noticed there's so many of them

And there's really not that many of us.

Ladies love us, my posse's kicking up dust.

It's on till the break of dawn

And we're starting this party from duskOK, let's goBack with Andre, the giant, mister elephant tusk

Picture us, you'll just be another one bit the dust

Just one of my mothers sons who got thrown under the bus

Kiss my butt. Lick the wonder cheese from under my nuts

It disgusts me to see the game the way that it looks

It's a must I redeem my name and haters get mushed.

Bitches lust. Man they love me when I lay in the cut.

Fist the cup. The lady gave her eighty some paper cut.

Now picture us. It's ridiculous you curse at the thought

'Cause when I spit the verse the shit

Gets worse then Worcestershire sauce

If I could fit the words as picture perfect, works every time

Every verse, every line, as simple as nursery rhymes

It's elementary. The elephants have entered the room.

I venture to say we're the center of attention it's true

Not to mention back with a vengeance so here's the signal

Of the bat symbol. The platinum trio's back on you hoes.So crack a bottle, let your body waddle

Don't act like a snobby model you just hit the lotto

O-oh o-oh, bitches hopping in my Tahoe

Got one riding shotgun and no not one of them got clothes

Now where's the rubbers? Who's got the rubbers?

I noticed there's so many of them

And there's really not that many of us.

Ladies love us, my posse's kicking up dust.

It's on till the break of dawn

And we're starting this party from duskLadies and gentlemen, Dr. DreThey see that low rider go by they're, like Oh my!

You ain't got to tell me why you're sick cuz I know why.

I dip through in that six trey like sick 'em Dre.

I'm an itch that they can't scratch, they sick of me.

But hey, what else can I say? I love LA.

Cause over and above all, it's just another day

And this one begins where the last one ends.

Pick up where we left off and get smashed again.

I'll be dammed, just fucked around and crashed my Benz.

Driving around with a smashed front end

Let's cash that one in.

Grab another one from out the stable

The Monte Carlo, El Camino or the El Dorado

The hell if I know.

Do I want leather seats or vinyl?

Decisions, decisions

Garage looks like Precision Collision.

Or Maaco beats quake like Waco

Just keep the bass low speakers away from your face thoughSo crack a bottle, let your body waddle

Don't act like a snobby model you just hit the lotto

O-oh o-oh, bitches hopping in my Tahoe

Got one riding shotgun and no not one of them got clothes

Now where's the rubbers? Who's got the rubbers?

I noticed there's so many of them

And there's really not that many of us.

Ladies love us, my posse's kicking up dust.

It's on till the break of dawn

And we're starting this party from duskAnd I take great pleasure in introducing, 50 Cent!It's bottle after bottle

The money ain't a thing when you party with me

It's what we into it's simple

We ball out of control like you wouldn't believe

I'm the napalm the bomb the don I'm King Kong

Get rolled on wrapped up and reigned on

I'm so calm through Vietnam ring the alarm

Bring the Shaun Dawn burn marijuana do what you want

Nigga on and on till the break of what

Get the paper man I'm caking you know I don't give a fuck

I spend it like it don't mean nothing

Blow it like its supposed to be blown

Motherfucker I'm grown

I stunt I style I flash the shit

I gets what the fuck I want so what I trick

Fat ass burgundy bags classy shit Jimmy Choo shoes

I say move a bitch moveSo crack a bottle, let your body waddle

Don't act like a snobby model you just hit the lotto

O-oh o-oh, bitches hopping in my Tahoe

Got one riding shotgun and no not one of them got clothes

Now where's the rubbers? Who's got the rubbers?

I noticed there's so many of them

And there's really not that many of us.

Ladies love us, my posse's kicking up dust.

It's on till the break of dawn

And we're starting this party from dusk

Songwriters

RENARD, JEAN / LAWRENCE JR., TREVOR / YOUNG, ANDRE / BATSON, MARK / JACKSON, CURTIS / MATHERS, MARSHALL / PARKER, DAWAUNPublished by

Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Universal Music Publishing Group Song Discussions is protected by U.S. Patent 9401941. Other patents pending.

Enjoy the lyrics !!!