Rob The Robbers Ludacris feat. I-20 & Young Buck

How the hell you robbers gonna rob a robber? X4

All black gloves, black mask, here we go again

The traps goin' slow,

So I'm kickin' niggas doors again

Them pussy niggas soft, so the dealers goin' hard for it

I'm off in the truck, call up Buck,

He got the hard for it

I got scopes on the AR,

Make it easy to just pop at you

The first talkin' dope boy, then we hit to rob at you

Won't hesitate to pull it out, empty out a clip

Heard your partner got the cannons,

So I'm tryin' to hit a lick

I ain't got to contemplate it,

See I'm down to demonstrate it

I'm a DTP nigga, G-Unit affiliated

Got a clique full of street niggas, ready for the shit

And a crib full of thick hoes, down for the joint

Tell them pretty niggas, here we come

Lay it down, G it up

Extra clips, extra round, pick a clown, hit 'em Buck

Hit 'em with that semi, or bust with that revolver

How the hell you robbers, gonna rob a robber?

How the hell you robbers gonna rob a robber? x8

Snatch niggas out their Chevies in traffic,

I'm a savage

The devil made me do it nigga, I gotta have it

I'm hoppin' out this Escalade, chopper in my hand

I catch the ones that I can,

And start poppin' at they man

They say the hood wanna kill me,

The police want me locked up

So I just take their jewelry, every time I pop up

My album went platinum, and yeah, the nigga still jackin'

I ain't lyin' or actin',

It's just that I love it with a passion

You should these niggas faces with the

.40's on they shorties

Have they ass breakin' up

Like this dope game ain't for me (oh)

So, come on pussy nigga, bring it if you that hard

And watch when you come home,

I'll be layin' in your backyard

Niggas turn to trackstars, runnin' when we comin'

See, them beepers see me do it,

But they don't know who done it

Ay 20, make sure you tell that nigga Luda, I'm a shoota'

So if he got a problem with them cowards,

Bring me through there

How the hell you robbers gonna rob a robber? x8

.45 in the crevice of the 'Lac seat

Hummin, comin' right at ya

These hollows will make you think you at a track meet

Boys hit the back street

I'm ridin shotgun, with a shotgun

.45 in the crevice of the 'Lac seat

Hummin, comin' right at ya

These hollows will make you think you at a track meet

Boys hit the back street

I'm ridin shotgun, with a shotgun

Pussy niggas hit the back seat

Chickens wanna act sweet

Cause of my candy-coated paint and size 24 shoes

I call 'em Shaq's feet, rollin' 20 Lacs deep

Whoever want it, we done it

At 2100 Jack-U street

So hide-ya hide-ya wallet-wallet

Tuck-ya tuck-ya chain-chain

I don't wanna, cock-it cock-it

Chicka-chicka bang-bang

Ain't no way to try to stop it, or numb the pain-pain

Cause this ain't no muthafuckin video game-game

But I can empty the cartridge,

While you bitchin' and fussin'

Grab the sticks of extra clips and press the reset button

Put you on the front page of you the latest edition

Tell the robbers I'm the greatest addition

Motherfucker!