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Undisputed Lyrics

[Floyd Mayweather speaks]

[Ludacris:]
Back up on dat a**, Back to put rappers on one
knee like they bout to run 100 meter dash, Bow
down to greatness, before I get p***** and run up
in the stands like the Indiana Pacers, Covered all
my bases, straight, no chasers, Diamonds on my
chain look like my neck's full of glacers, t**anic
flow, t**anic dough, women on my nuts like "Where
da t**anic go?" I been scourin' da earth, makin'
my fans catch da holy ghost at my shows like ya
grandma at church, And the fat lady singin', it's
ova for you rappers, Can't none of ya'll bust your
just sacs full of s****, And I got da women
screamin', and they could catch my b**** on any
given sunday like my name's w**** Beaman, Or LL
Cool, so if ya boyfriend thinks your loyal to his
a** then he's a m*********** fool, Got jewels on
my pinky, jewels on my wrist Iconic status and his
name is Ludacris, b**** please, you messin with
some real O.G's, With million dolla whips dat I
ship from overseas, Got a pocket full of G'z, and
the inconvenient truth is that the ozone is back
cause I been smokin' all da trees, The globe is
warmin' up when we fire up the blunt, And put it
in the air like Evil Knievel stunts, Wat you want
from me? I got pistols for da haters, Ya fam will
be in black like the playin' for da Raiders, And
ya music isn't favored, and DJ's they neva bring
it back like when you go and borrow somethin' from
ya neighbor, Like a cup full of sugar, a rope full
of salt, The name of my car insurance is YO f*****
FAULT, And if you sittin on chrome, I'll call up
my boys and have you stripped of ya medals like
Marion Jones, n****...

[Floyd Mayweather speaks]

[Ludacris:]
Back up on da scene, back to put a nail in these
rappers' coffins I got the hammer in my jeans,
Call me Mr.Fixit, barrel hotter than a fresh batch
of home-made b***ermilk biscuits, A-tisket,
a-tasket, a custom-made casket, Luda leaves them
trouters stretched out like gymnastics, And
acrobatics I'm superstar status, the mouth of the
South like gangsta grillz you b******, The
international traveler, and I may not be much to
you but I'm the sh*t out in Africa, So put ya fist
up, even the statue of liberty lit a flame for the
way that I lit my wrist up, You can't compete with
me, I got 'em stuck like I made a thousand rappers
put shackles on they feet with me, And then I
broke free, I'll let 'em loose when Bobby Brown
and Whitney Houston become drug-free, I'm the
baddest mother shut it like Shaft was, leavin'
rappers with headaches like bad drugs, They
shoulda warned ya, you got defeated by the heat
but, eh, we'll just say we Alonzo Mourn'd ya, So
Cater coroner, I'll show up to yo funeral with
some gators like I'm fresh outta Florida, Call me
the swamp thing, ya'll headed in the wrong
direction like you hit the subway and caught the
wrong train, So don't f**k with it, I'm sendin'
lyrical bullets right at ya dome f**k n***** betta
duck with it, Or else you stuck with it, You'll
get stalked so bad you'll leava da scene thinkin
eight Young Buck's did it, But not in Cashville,
you lost yo feelin' like comin down off X chasin'
effects of yo last pill, You f***** Daffy Dill,
You's a Daffy Duck, And I'm the undefeated champ, ya'll n***** suck!
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