What (what), what (what), what (what), what (what)
I (I), I (I), I (I), I (I)
OK, come on, what

[Ludacris & Pastor Troy]
What (what), what (what), what (what), what (what)
Oh (oh), oh (oh), oh (oh), oh (oh)

[Chorus: x2]
Get off me, but I'm on you all day
Get off me, I don't think you wanna play

You wanna rush me, you can't touch me, trust me
Cause you way too dusty, and rusty, and musty
You better shop that make you pop up from lock up
But you tell your folks to hold you're jack up to back up (to back up)
I'm ready, so sit down or go ta' your room
It ain't nothing
A a watch out watch out, boom
Call me the hit man, cause I make you wanna call time-out
Then I make your mom cry-out, when I take your whole spine out
Then watch me take ya, and fake ya, and shake ya, and break ya
And see you on home to your maker
You should give up now for talking shit like that
But then you nothing, you garbage you better watch ya' back

[Chorus]

(OK, OK now)
Now it's the Pastor, shook 'em, showing my moves
I'm in that 2000 excursion
Riding on 22's, I hear the boom
But booms just get me more crunk
It's the DSGB forever
Riding on pump
I stunk, or did I say stunk, I meant stank
I think I'll take it please, or in another coffee break
You ain't, but you can pretend to be homey
I'm stiff arming these busters just as soon they get on me

[Chorus: x2]

Writer : DUPRI, JERMAINE/BRIDGES, CHRISTOPHER BRIAN
Copyright : Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing