Creepin' [Solo]

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Ludacris

Christopher Brian Bridges (born September 11, 1977), better known by his stage name Ludacris, is an American rapper, entrepreneur and actor. Along with his manager, Chaka Zulu, Ludacris is the co-founder of Disturbing tha Peace, an imprint distributed by Def Jam Recordings. Ludacris has won a Screen Actors Guild, Critic's Choice, MTV, and three Grammy Awards during his career. Along with fellow Atlantans Big Boi and Andre 3000 of OutKast, Ludacris was one of the first and most influential Dirty South artists to achieve mainstream success. more »

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Venom!

In the streets, I'm peepin' game
I can't trust you, no, no
All up in my business, man
I stay on the low-low
Say they really, really fake
Can't mess with you no more
Closest people to you hate
So I be rollin' solo
(I'm creepin' on the low)
Creepin' on the low-low
Creepin' on the low-low
I be rollin', I be rollin' solo
I'm creepin' on the low
Creepin' on the low-low
Creepin' on the low-low
I be rollin', I be rollin' solo
I'm creepin' on the low (yeah)

"Mo' money and mo' problems"
What Biggie said, it looks like it's true
(True) used to be my homeboys
But now, I'm paid, so they tryna sue (Why?)
My garage got Jaguars (yeah)
My garage look like a zoo (Zoo)
Middle finger up for the haters
Hope the hater here isn't you
(Super cool) That's real cool
You can feel like you got a friend
But I ain't trustin' my money counter
And that's the reason I count again
You saw the Forbes (yeah) , I'm suspicious
Thinking everybody wanna take my riches
Can't take my money out my account
'Cause my bank teller get motion sickness
Back and forth, uh, back back and forth
I'm in the streets and right back in court
(Court) candy car built like a tank (Tank)
And my crib built like a fort
(Let's go to war) I ain't George Bush
I promise y'all, I'm gon' be prepared
'Cause I ain't trustin' my weapon, either
And that's the reason I keep a spare, yeah
Yeah in the streets, I'm peepin' game
I can't trust you, no, no
All up in my business, man
I stay on the low-low
Say they really, really fake
Can't mess with you no more
Closest people to you hate
So I be rollin' solo
(I'm creepin' on the low)
Creepin' on the low-low
Creepin' on the low-low
I be rollin', I be rollin' solo
I'm creepin' on the low
Creepin' on the low-low
Creepin' on the low-low
I be rollin', I be rollin' solo
I'm creepin' on the low

I ain't hangin' with none of y'all (Why?)
Outcast like Three Thou' (Thou')
Win the Grammy, thank God and family
(And) all of y'all, I'm gon' leave out (Out)
You don't like it, then, peace out (Out)
Look around, and I see doubt (Doubt)
I been known to get to the presidents
Like Barack was on speed dial (Oh)
Yeah, it's all about me now
Don't want you and don't need you
You don't grind and get to the money
And you ain't hungry, I won't feed you
I ain't hangin' with no hater, no faker
No diva (I)
Do it big, and they say they did
And try to take my credit like stole Visas
If it's lonely at the top
I'd rather be alone
'Cause the closest people to you
The ones who gonna do you wrong (Mm)
Backstabbin' me for a broad (Nah)
Promise I won't lose no sleep (Sleep)
'Cause Jenny Craig can be your freak
But my bank account gon' stay obese (Obese)
In the streets, I'm peepin' game
I can't trust you, no, no
All up in my business, man
I stay on the low-low
Say they really, really fake
Can't mess with you no more
Closest people to you hate
So I be rollin' solo
(I'm creepin' on the low)
Creepin' on the low-low
Creepin' on the low-low
I be rollin', I be rollin' solo
I'm creepin' on the low
Creepin' on the low-low
Creepin' on the low-low
(Haha, yo, Luda! Let's go)
I be rollin', I be rollin' solo
I'm creepin' on the low
Tell you what I be doing, man
(What's up? Ugh)

I be creepin' lower than low (yeah)
Light another blunt, and I'm smokin' the 'dro
(yeah) chokin', loc-in', never provokin'
But the trunk gon' get popped
And I'll open the door (Blaow)
Blunts full of smoke, I be slower than slow
(Whoa)
Feel like I'm trapped, and it's nowhere to go
(yeah) so I just pull out the bazooka BLAOW!
Put a fuckin' hole in the floor (Oh)
Luda! I'm so dope with the flow
Trunk full of speakers, pocket full of dubs
(Dubs) how much wood could a woodchuck chuck
If a woodchuck could chuck wood-grain?
Grippin' on the wheel
(Wheel) , turn it, turn it
Blow another sack, I earned it, earned it
Blow another amp
(Amp) , pull another tramp (Tramp)
Light another blunt, burn it, burn it
Flame it up!
(Hey) Hear my flow? I changed it up (Hey)
Everybody grab your gats and hold 'em
Load 'em, sock 'em, lock 'em, cock 'em
And aim it up (Blaow)
Bang it up, off in the sky
Catch me rollin' off in the ride (yeah)
Twenty-six inches, leave 'em defenseless
Forty-five always tucked to the side (Ow)
Open your eyes, see me cruising
'Cause I keep winnin' and
These boys keep losin'
Plus, I'm the pimp of the year
Playas is hatin and hoes is choosin' (yeah)
Look at all the hoes you losin' (Yup)
Then look at all the game I got (Got)
And you can catch me creepin' on the low-low
Luda ridin' solo, beatin' the block! (Woo)
In the streets, I'm peepin' game
I can't trust you, no, no
All up in my business, man
I stay on the low-low
Say they really, really fake
Can't mess with you no more
Closest people to you hate
So I be rollin' solo
(I'm creepin' on the low)
Creepin' on the low-low
Creepin' on the low-low
I be rollin', I be rollin' solo
I'm creepin' on the low (Chamilitary, man)
Creepin' on the low-low
Creepin' on the low-low
(Eight-three-two, five-one-four)
I be rollin', I be rollin' solo
I'm creepin' on the low
(Four-seven-three-zero) holla at me, haters!

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