Lyrics B.O.T.S. Radio - Ludacris , I-20
Oh,
yeah,
welcome
back
to
Battle
Of
The
Sexes
Radio
Where
it
is
12:
45
in
the
AM
And
disturbin'
the
pieces
are
in-studio
guests
Our
hot-line
is
lit
the
fuck
up
with
people
with
relationship
issues
Caller
number
one,
you
are
on
the
air
Yeah,
man,
y'all
tell
me
if
I'm
crazy
'cause
this
girl
in
here
trippin'
You
know
what
I'm
sayin',
I'm
a
real
man,
I
take
care
of
home
I
take
care
of
my
kids,
I
pay
all
my
bills,
I,
I
mean
I
ain't
gon'
lie
I
may
check
a
little
female
from
time
to
time
on
the
side
You
know
what
I'm
talkin'
bout
but
what
man
don't
So
how
can
I
break
this
down
to
her?
Ludacris,
how
do
you
feel
about
this
particular
situation?
Yo,
get
your
money
right,
ladies,
let
me
sign
your
own
checks
But
don't
call
me
after
midnight
unless
we
havin'
sex
Don't
ever
assume
nothin',
a
man
gon'
be
a
man
A
groupy
gon'
be
a
groupy,
a
fan
gon'
be
a
fan
These
tricks
gon'
keep
on
trickin',
so
hustlers
gon'
keep
hustlin'
Long
as
there's
new
poochie,
them
dogs
gon'
keep
fuckin'
So
don't
be
all
up
in
my
phone,
replyin'
on
women's
pages
I
thought
your
mama
told
you,
you
should
never
talk
to
strangers
Don't
ever
ask
no
questions
that
you
really
Don't
want
the
answers
to
Stop
poppin'
up
at
the
mouth
or
like
Nino
Brown
I'll
have
to
cancel
you
Handle
you,
stop
the
ride,
leave
you
on
the
avenue
Half
of
you
always
seem
to
want
some
nigga
to
pamper
you
And
that'll
do
for
him
but
not
for
me,
I'll
probably
baffle
you
And
if
he
wants
to
act
a
fool,
I'll
show
'em
what
they
gotta
do
Run
along,
go
find
somebody
to
snitch
or
go
chit-chatter
to
Then
your
name
will
follow
with
"Eh,
whatever
happened
to?"
Exactly,
that's
just
what
she
needed
You
damn
right,
player,
alright,
thank
you
for
callin'
Man,
next
caller,
yeah,
I
hear
you
but
let's
talk
about
The
fake
ass
brothers
with
the
24's
But
can't
pay
the
note
on
their
lease
And
my
nigga
with
this
high
style
chains
But
I
can't
get
him
to
pay
his
damn
child
support
That's
why
we
makin'
more
money
Ownin'
our
own
property
and
right
Just
as
nice,
so
now,
I
guess
if
we
want
to
We
can
bare
ya'll
too
now,
huh
Interestin',
Shauna,
you
wanna
stick
on
this
one?
Get
your
man
right,
nigga's,
get
a
bitch
that
can
keep
up
with
you
I'm
tired
of
thinkin'
to
myself
why
in
the
hell
did
I
ever
fuck
with
you
Got
stuck
with
you,
sick
of
your
childish
games
And
all
the
stuff
you
do,
I
probably
mentioned
your
name
Put
you
to
the
game,
I've
had
enough
of
you
I
seen
your
type
before,
doin'
your
4's
all
over
the
floor
He's
flashin'
his
chain's,
he's
flashin'
his
dough
He
drinkin'
the
fifths
and
drinkin'
them
all
But
what
you
don't
know
this
nigga
bro
He
can't
even
afford
the
smokin'
Back
in
the
hood
off
the
hustlers
and
Jeez
knows
he's
the
joke
That's
why
I
cheat
a
nigga,
just
when
he
eat
it
I
tell
him,
beat
it,
nigga
Real
bitches
true
to
the
game,
that's
how
you
G
a
nigga
DTP
stayin'
the
zone
like
we
on
BCP
Chrome
on
the
SS
Shawn,
I
bowly
recip
thee
Ya'll
niggas
ain't
on
my
level,
why
do
it
so
poor?
Pineapple
in
berry,
we
feel
it's
sup-goo
Lightnin'
is
Sup-doo,
I
get
my
own
stay
That's
why
I
leave
them
too,
honey,
they
never
call
back
That's
why,
Shauna,
pussy
rule
the
world
Yes,
it
does,
next
caller,
what's
up?
Man,
what's
up,
this
is
Marv,
I
wanna
know
If
ya'll
got
somebody
to
talk
to
these
triflin'
ass
women
Like
me,
I'm
a
good
man
but
all
these
good
men
get
treated
like
shit
Our
friends
callin'
at
3:
30
in
the
mornin'
Marcus
don't
wanna
talk
about
no
numbers
Marcus
wanna
talk
about
that
ass
and
I
ain't
havin'
it
Ya'll
got
someone
to
talk
to
these
women?
'Cause
they
need
to
be
told
I-20,
you
better
talk
to
'em
Yo,
get
your
money
right,
ladies,
tell
the
man
to
get
gone
But
don't
you
show
up
to
my
crib
with
your
period
on
This
is
lesson
one,
baby,
listen,
how
should
I
begin?
Um,
ain't
no
such
thing
as
a
plutonic
friend
You're
lyin'
to
yourself
if
you
don't
think
you
want
more
So
don't
you
call
me
insecure
when
he's
so
whoopy
to
go
You
all
claim
to
have
substance,
self
respect
and
some
class
But
half
naked
in
the
club,
Miss.
Steady
shakin'
your
ass
Screamin'
I
ain't
got
enough
to
touch
you
under
your
skirt
But
who
the
hell
are
you
to
tell
me
what
my
money
is
worth?
I'm
on
the
streets
and
you're
trippin'
I
don't
make
you
feel
safe
I
stay
at
home
and
you're
complainin'
that
I
think
we
need
space
I'm
not
sayin'
that
it's
fair
but
it's
the
way
that
it
is
Ain't
no
nigga
tryna
marry
you
with
four
or
five
kids
It
may
sound
a
little
harsh
but
it's
straight
from
the
heart
A
nigga
didn't
write
the
scripts
so
I'm
just
doin'
my
part
Yeah
Preach,
my
brother,
preach,
I
hope
every
woman
there
heard
that
And
you
better
believe
they
did
and
some
millions
of
people
listenin'
That's
our
show
for
this
evening,
ladies
and
gentle
man
I
gotto
get
a
piece
of
ass
my
damn
self,
alright
Check
at
same
time,
same
place
tomorrow
Battle
Of
The
Sexes
Radio
signin'
off,
good
night
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