We Got

[Ludacris] DTP we got them guns that go *Gun Sound* [Verse 1 - I-20] Yea I'm all about that pistol player, cold blooded killer Niggas recognize my name, I dub the young dealer You better tell ya man that with the gages I'm nice Ill shoot up y'all white shirts until you all look like dice But I'm through with all the talking time to show all you niggas I 2-0, I'm like J-Lo...going through niggas DTP we ain't playing if you try to get our pen A.K's get to spraying like Bottom line that mean I'm bout it, any nigga want it, doubt it Bust you in the broad day, on a street that's fully crowded Come on a hole inside your chest, just for thinking it's rap And tell that pretty bitch thug we got some pretty big gats Chaka say I'm shot out, and I tend to agree So you should watch what you saying if it's intended for me So be careful what you starting, let my fingers do the walking And that Uzi get to talking like *Gun Sound* [Verse 2 - Tity Boi] Hammers, jam 'em, snatch 'em, grab 'em Can the an and fuck 'em, damn 'em Press him, man him, scared him, teared him, kneed him up Bake him, take him, beat him up, I hate I hate, I eat him up A-B-C-D-E-F shawty is you a G or what Now it's just me and my nuts, that's all I got in this world I'm pulling pistols out my stomach and throwing them bitches up like earl Serving the club, head shot, scattered, covered, run, scram 'em I'm 38, hot with a pearl handle And I'm throwing techs like a NBA ref I got, all gold guns like they came from I-RAQ Artillery, could it be I got all kinds of these pistols I point my gun at ya homeboy make ya own folks hit ya And they ain't taking no more pictures, if you snap I'mma click Anyway, plus I got bullets in the clip the size of Lil Fate And I'm waving choppers like heli-copters You gonna need hella doctors, when the glok go *Gun Sound* [Verse 3 - Chingy] Say on the set bitch, better watch your lip those Tecs be quick 20 over thurr, Tity over thurr, Luda over thurr, ain't no exit trick Us you don't mess with, we got them guns like action flicks Reload with the next clip, I'm the wrong nigga to flex with bitch Come on and test this, my gun I'm having sex with shit Put a bullet in (in) shoot it out, got them long horns like Texas bitch Look at my necklace, maybe hit a nigga disrespect this click My pistol grip sound like this...now what Who want that they fucked, when I cock and load the cake, bust bust You all cowards play tough, and my peeps we come to spray stuff up You all lives made up, like ugly hoes with make-up bra We'll suit you up then toss yo ass in the lake tough nut My wrist rocky, like Sylvester Stallone So thurr for you should invest, in a vest for your dome Cause I know you marks planning on getting me when I'm landing Peace to Nick, but my cannon go *Gun Sound* [Verse 4 - Ludacris] Fuck a medic, we gonna call yo ass a taxi cab Bleeding so hard you'll need a life size maxi pad So flip the script and tell your woman its your time of the month A.K. 47 for the niggas who's really looking for heaven and a 9 for you chumps Got killers in my squad and I'm the nicest one in my group But I got bananas for you niggas and I ain't talking bout fruit I’ll peel your cap back with the black mac 'Til your back crack, cock the gat back like (clak clak clak) Swallow a hallow make 'em digest with a 50 caliber Yo futures not looking so good, tomorrows not on your calendar I, do away with the amateurs, they breathing too long Ill leave 'em coughing like the sound effects you hear in this song My shotguns are cold and hard, but my desert is easy And my triggers are always talking about some squeeze me, squeeze me And for these fakers talking greasy, I'm starting the show My uzi got a drum roll, it goes *Gun Sound*