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Ludacris

Fatty Girl

Ludacris

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Song Information
Fatty Girl
About This Song & Song Lyrics

About "Fatty Girl" by Ludacris

About

Ludacris – Fatty Girl Lyrics

Lyrics

Na, na, na
Gonna have a good time
Na, na, na
Gonna have a good time
Hey, hey, hey
F is for all the
Fatties wearin' my shit
(Do you want me to?)
Uh, yeah, what?
(Uh, Trackmasters
FB, Entertainment)
Yeah, this how
We gon' do this
(Uh, uh, ooh)

Yo, girl you taste
Like a cinnabun
So sweet from the
Thighs to the cheek
Sex on the beach
Check the size of my meat
Call me the butcher
Ludacris King Ding-a-Ling
Sheet smusher
Sweet street pusher
Give me that gusher
Nasty stuff, look up, I took her
Ran out of liquor
(Time to re-up)
Here comes her nigga
(Who gives a f***?)
Rap fame and plat' thangs
They can't hang
I mack dames and
Pack thangs and act strange
Jang-a-ling dang-a-ling
Oh no they can't stop
Take it to the floor
Back up and then drop
Effervescent time
Time's of the essence
Make 'em undress in
Less than three seconds
So whores keep steppin'
Whores keep slobbin'
Sex as a weapon
Clothes that I slept in
Streets keep mobbin'
Thieves keep robbin'
Get two in your butt
Three to your noggin'
Creepin' and crawlin'
I'm incogneg'
Can't catch the balls then
You in the wrong league
Let a dog breathe
Watch a pimp walk
Shut yo' as* up when
You hear a pimp talk
Friskier dreams
Krispier Kremes
You lookin' mighty
Fine in them jeans

[Chorus:]
All you brothers want a
Fatty girl, fatty girl
Fatty girl, who me?
You know I got a
Fatty girl, fatty girl
Fatty girl, what's she mean?
Ever since I got a
Fatty girl, fatty girl
Fatty girl, fat as a b****
Fatty girl, fatty girl
Fatty girl

Uh uh hot fire hot
(Step up and
Represent player)
International baller baby

Heeshy
Young birds in the Coupe goin'
Heeshy
(Papi tell me if
You don't feel me)
Easy, I feel greasy
When you squeeze me
(Cut de blood claat talk and
Do what ya wan' please me)
I'm talkin' down home
Smothered in gravy, Cool J be
Havin' young ladies
Bustin' like three eighties
Lubricated silencers
Crushin' all challengers
Gats that be claimin' they Glocks
But really Dillingers
Get it?
Glock Dillinger
I'm big you small
More nuts on your face
Than graffiti on the wall
Hair like Brillo
Cuttin' up my pillow
Got 'em sayin' (hello)
Naked in a tub of a Jello
Still no competition
Still flow nigga listen
(I'm not supposed to
Do this type of thing
I'm a Christian)
Amen
It's like a scene out
Of Player's magazine
Let them other cats holla
L'll make you scream

[Chorus:]

Aiyyo
Welcome home Murray

Yo, this is in thought
Of those broads
Who got the goods
To the chicks who don't
Eh it's still all good
Some broads got an
Automatic thickness for eight
You'll soon get it
Just stay workin' hard at it
Goodness gracious
Good God almighty
You got a badoonka donk
Girl don't hurt nobody
Toes all painted, feet all out
It's an aphrodisiac for
The mall without a doubt
Juicy chunky stanky funky
Gut slappin' ball slappin' cater
To your every fantasy
You got your tongue clitoris tits
And belly pierced
(All that?)
Necklace around yo' waist
Toe rings, girl do yo' thang
I mean, in them jeans
Yo shape is beautiful
And I'm "For you, by you"
Like FUBU
(B**** you know the name)
Whoo-wee Jesus
JoJo K-Ci and Mary
Girl you don't know
What you do to me
(Lord have mercy)
Ain't no doubt about it
When she walk by
Tongues hang out
Eyes pop out the socket
(Bing)
Cats cringe and point like pssh
Ummph you can see that
Thang from the front
We gas those up like
Full service
And, keep 'em drunk
Like Kathie Lee Curtis
And when you shake it
You rock my world
I done died and
Went to heaven
You got a fatty girl

[Chorus:]

SONGWRITERS:
BARNES, SAMUEL / OLIVIER, JEAN / SMITH, JAMES TODD / WILLIAMS, PHARRELL / MURRAY, KEITH / BRIDGES, CHRIS
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Song Info
By: Ludacris
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