Letra F5 (furiously dangerous) Ludacris

F5 (furiously dangerous)

[feat. Slaughterhouse]

[Hook: Claret Jai]
We're so furiously dangerous

[Verse 1: Ludacris]
Death by lyrical injection
I kill you rappers
A lot of green with a yellow complexion
Women call me the Green Bay packer
I pack the zero's
Meaning mucho deniro
So paid, rappers is waitin' on trades and they all get Knicked like Melo
Hello, LUDA!
Tell theses other boys double up
'Cause I got some work all on my waist but I call it a tummy tuck
My every records jumpin', or playin' double dutch
I shit on rappers every verse just got the bubble guts

[Verse 2: Joe Budden]
Let me tell this to the people not understandin' my moxy
Animal, watch me
If you think it's [?], stop me
But then I hit 'em with a flow, that they can't even copy
See, we don't play that
Where I'm from it's like fantasy hockey
Sup with the dog, thugs want a war
Bad jean, what you want to trade slugs with 'em for
While you cuffin' em more, I'm stuffin' the jaw
Illegal for you to reworking Kevin Love on the board, dog?
You and your skills [?] on my squad
I put you on a crash course in a smart car
Going speeding not relying on the brake pad
The car you still drive on the race track
So you lying bout your feelings and the Maybach?
A ghost tail for the Phantoms, face facts?
We ruin hip hop, slaughterhouse and payback
In the shape of a tatt, you done faded to black
GO...

[Hook: Claret Jai]

[Verse 3: Royce da 5'9'']
I went from eating top ramen to being top rhymer
Check full of commas
No regrets except for the drama
I remember a time when my only perfection was my momma
My mind in the wrong direction
Now it's time ya bow down in [?]
Writ in my honour cause bitch I'm bonker, plural
In a whip with my Ivanka, pompous? girl
She on E, feeling on me, singing on key
While I'm bumping We Are The World
Got a sniff from Britney, no he didn't did he
"We run this town"
No he didn't did he
I feel like tinting the glass,
You take a sip with me
She from the city of Jackson
I call her Mississippi, that was pretty witty
Demand like a black man tryna get re-elected
He ain't get it, did he?

[Hook: Claret Jai]

[Joell Ortiz:]
[?] to the pedal
Pedal to the floor
Just whippin' it through the ghetto
Metal in the door, case I gotta throw some lead into ya, boy
Referee mind state, I'm settling the score
I don't know what ya'll hating for
Wait, wait, know what, matter fact
I don't know what you're waiting for
I ain't finna say nothing, turn the bass up more til the speakers pop
I get a kick outta that, like a sneakers spot
See I was a little kid with his thumbs in his ears
And his tongue in his ear going na-na-na-nah-naaar
Just when you think it stop na-na-na-nah-naaar
Everything I speak is hot
But bont be mad at least everything you speak is...
I can't think of nothing nice to say, you're not nice okay

[Crooked I:]
Rapper, hustler, entrepreneur
My shit fly like I'm launching manure
Lord of the underground, God of the saw
On Hennessy black, [?] to the jaw
Yeah I'm off the block
This ain't work, call me "I'm off the block"
I'm a syllable, Hannibal, killer cannibal
With a mechanical manual to deliver the flammable ammo
Lyrical and I'm off the top
Rep that West till I walk with Pac
We the 2.0 Boys, quick fricken Joe boys
New gold Rolls Royce, fall off the lot
Cock me, the only way you can stop me
I'm top seed, I pop green at my speed
So watch me, if you haven't seen the phenomenom
I speak fast as Lamborghini's in Ramadan

[Hook]

[Outro:]
I suggest you shut it down
Pack your 'ish and turn around
Because tonight, we run this town
So let your feet, still swiftly hit the ground

[Ludacris:]
We too dangerous for the World