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Everybody Hates Chris

Sing along with me,

[Chorus]

Say fuck you Luda [Repeat: x3]

Yea, I guess that's why everybody hates Chris

Say fuck you Luda [Repeat: x3]

Yea, I guess that's why everybody hates Chris

OK now, this is for the Gs and this is for the hustlers

This is for the diamonds and the watch all clustered

Spread em like mustard, canary yellow

Now women in my face like hello

Yea I'm sort of a big deal

These Giovanni rims are sort of a big wheel

This five course dinner is sort of a big meal

This Bentley GT can make Luda disappear

Faster than David Copperfield motherfucker

I'm talking five star tell is, and penthouse suites

Yea I'm just a playboy between penthouse sheets

Hit the club and go and party with some penthouse freaks

Party with Britney, Lindsay and Paris together

Get in line and buying bottles that's taller than Chris Webber

And making haters sneeze from diamonds and sick leathers

Cause my ice gives em cold like they as if they under the weather

But my women keep me warmer than a polo sweater

[Chorus]

Now I stay fresh to death draped in gangsta fits

Over 12 million sold I drop gangsta hits

Live in mansions and drive around in gangsta whips

You swear I'm bout to get into some gangsta shit

Oh no here comes trouble, my vision is skewed

I can only see in doubles, two models two bottles

That'll pop like bubbles and when I get home

The girls tops lift off like airspace shuttles

60 seconds till blast off

My car got a face lift and took its mask off

Tint so dark it look like I took the glass off

The body was white for 8 weeks

Before I finally decided to take its cast off

Now its blacker than a bottom less pit

You talk shit you'll end up with bottom less lip

I hit a nigga so hard, I'll make him swallow his spit

Then I be wit Bobby V on that anonymous shit

[Chorus]

I go for broke like TLC

The hottest nigga on the mic

Yea I believe that's me

Now all the ladies wanna give a lil' TLC

Cause Luda was set for life after 3 LPs

Yep,

Still counting still climbing the charts

And rappers still talking shit

Like they was rhyming in farts

I cross the finish line twice

They still trying to start

But my infrared beam will make em shine in the dark

[Chorus]

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written by Bristol, Johnny William / Bridges, Christopher Brian / Robinson, Smokey

Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing

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