[DTP]
Disturbing The Peace, Def Jam South
'Cris (yeah) you ready?
[Ludacris]
Oh it's my turn? Alright,
I got permission to put ya mamma in a headlock (what?)
She tried to juke me in a figure-fo' leg lock (oh)
She said she like the way I stick and make the bed rock
or how I lick and leave her twisted like a dreadlock, and it's
on
So stop the sweating like a wristband
And get some balance like a bike without the kickstand
I think I changed the definition of a hit man
Cause I could really give a fuck about that bitch man, c'mon!
We putting holes in your residence
And lose anybody for the right president
We thugged out street niggas with intelligence
So all that bullshit you yapping is irrelevant
Oh yeah, I represent the Dirty Southside
I'm a dentist making women open they mouth wide
You be in jail still running it on the outside
Thank not then won't ya open up ya mouth right, but who
cares?
[Chorus: x2]
I got my corner on lockdown
About to hold this whole block down
Ludacris tell um how the South sound
Uh Buddha-la ah, uh uh uh Buddha-la
Uh Buddha-la ah uh oh uh oh uh oh
[Verse 2]
Coming to Shady Park is like a peep show
It's some respectable ladies and there some freak hoes
I know killers that go to church up in they street clothes
You'll end up missing more than Shaq when shooting free throws
They packing and bout to open up the dope spot
My neighborhood is stopping cars like a roadblock
They moving weight like Atlanta was moving boat rock
And catching ums like seeun Muslims eating pork chops, never happen
And meanwhile I been thinking man
Niggas been slanging tapes like they slanging 'caine
Cause in the hood its getting ugly like orangutan
So if you trying to stop the hustle get the dangalang
Okay, we trying to make our own White House
Paint it black and start yelling our fucking pipes out
You try to tackle some players and you'll get psyched out
They can't fuck with us niggas you think they dyked out, so
don't play
[Chorus]
[Verse 3]
Disturbing The Peace, we do that funky shit
Hey, what can I say? We got a monkey clique
See Dre'll throw on them shades, and make that funky shit
And keep y'all women away if they got funky clit
Understand, we got that dough and it get rolled up
You pay the price and still we got the block sold up
Ain't nothing nice a full house don't make you fold up
You full of heist and try to jet and I'm like,
hold up, god damn, I need to say it on a megaphone
And tell your sister get the fuck up off the telephone
These fools is ticking me off like fifty metronome
I'm taking all of ya money just call me Pebbletone!
Alright? I got the pistol and the safe key
You better tell your bitch to follow you to safety
How dare you wanna be heroes and chase me
It's Ludacris wont leave no evidence to trace me, you know why?
[Chorus]
Funky shit oh
Do that funky shit oh [Repeat: x5]
Do that funky shit
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