Ludacris, Young Buck, The Game - Make Em Stomp (Remix) lyrics

Uh oh!
Young Buck
T.I
Ludacris
Dirty South, yeah!

I hear him talking
But he 'bout to get that ass stomped
Watch, I get the club crunk
I'ma make 'em stomp
We ain't playing wanna front?
Get that ass stomped
Do it like them Dirty South boys do and stomp
Now, where you from? Who the
Boss? I'ma break him off
Where you from? Who the boss?
Let me break him off
Where you from? Who the boss?
Let me break him off
Where you from? Who the boss?
Let me break him off



I'm Cadillac-ing through the hood
Sitting on 24s
TVs playing, rims spinning
Blowing plenty dro
Don't have to mention when you pimpin'
You get plenty hoes
It's all on you if you gon' trick
Or you gon' get your dough
I know I got these haters mad
I can love that
When you got love for the streets
They give you love back
Look in my eyes you can tell
I ain't never scared
(Nah)
Poppin them thangs
I'm rocking my chain anywhere
If you gon' represent your hood
What you waiting on?
Security better back up when
They play this song
And we 'bout 50 strong, please
Don't make us do you wrong
My clique is guerillas
They got they G-Unit's on
(G-Unit)
All of that mean muggin
Really don't mean nothing
Come on and take it outside
Let me see something
W W W What now? Don't get b-b-b-bucked down
Stop all that hating
Or this club gon get sh-shut down

Now, where you from? Who the
Boss? I'ma break him off
Where you from? Who the boss?
Let me break him off

I hear him talking
But he 'bout to get that ass stomped
Watch, I get the club crunk
I'ma make 'em stomp
We ain't playing wanna front?
Get that ass stomped
Do it like them Dirty South boys do and stomp
Now, where you from? Who the
Boss? I'ma break him off
Where you from? Who the boss?
Let me break him off
Where you from? Who the boss?
Let me break him off
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Where you from? Who the boss?
Let me break him off
Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, a ayy

I hear him talking
But he 'bout to get that ass stomped
Watch, I get the club crunk
I'ma make 'em stomp
We ain't playing wanna front?
Get that ass stomped
Do it like them Dirty South boys do and stomp
Now, where you from? Who the
Boss? I'ma break him off
Where you from? Who the boss?
Let me break him off
Where you from? Who the boss?
Let me break him off
Where you from? Who the boss?
Let me break him off

G-G-G-Unit! Coming straight outta Compton
Lace up my G-6s, and I'm A Town-stomping
Got ten thousand, cash, in my pocket
Let the bump in
'Cause Luda and Young Buck always
Getting me into something
Low-rider out front
I'm tryna get into something
Step on Banks' shoe one more time
And I'ma start busting
Rose-gold in my grill, I got a dirty mouth
And a bitch with a fat
Ass from the Dirty-Dirty South
I wasn't tryna get the
Cover of the Double-XL
Just trying to fuck Mÿa
'cause Dre said sex sells
Don't be mad at the rocks
In my fucking chain
Don't be mad 'cause your bitch
Chose Buck and Game
You see the logo tatted on my neck
The same one I'm autographing on the chest
Put your bottles in the air for Yayo
He on house arrest
And on behalf of 50 Cent, this is G-Unit West

Now, stomp! G-G-G-G-Unit!
Now, stomp! G-G-G-G-Unit!

I hear him talking
But he 'bout to get that ass stomped
Watch, I get the club crunk
I'ma make 'em stomp
We ain't playing wanna front?
Get that ass stomped
Do it like them Dirty South boys do and stomp
Now, where you from? Who the
Boss? I'ma break him off
Where you from? Who the boss?
Let me break him off
Where you from? Who the boss?
Let me break him off
Where you from? Who the boss?
Let me break him off
(Yeah)

Motherfucker, I'm a monster in this game
Similar to the Loch Ness
My rhymes are nappy-rooted
Some verses gotta process
The truth in this booth
Ain't no doubts when I'm rapping
If I say it
I've either done it or
It's 'bout to happen
When I pull up in the Louis truck on 26s
People dumb out
If life's a crap game
I'm rolling sevens on the come-out
These rappers think I'm ign'ant
Love saying my name
'Cause maintaining my fish tank and
They house cost the same
Ask me? I'll say I made it
And it sure wasn't luck
Because hustlers relate to me
And some are younger than Buck
You see, I'm married to my music
But we got a pre-nup
So if that bitch don't act right
I'm still getting my cut
My deals never get screwed
My contracts practice abstinence
A master in this program
Hazing these undergraduates
So pimpin', be easy; quit catching feelings
'Cause you worth a couple hundred grand
And I'm worth millions
Nobody's thinking bout you; plus
Your beef ain't legit
So please, stay off the T-IP of my di ahhhhh!

I hear him talking
But he 'bout to get that ass stomped
Watch, I get the club crunk
I'ma make 'em stomp
We ain't playing wanna front?
Get that ass stomped
Do it like them Dirty South boys do and stomp
Now, where you from? Who the
Boss? I'ma break him off
Where you from? Who the boss?
Let me break him off
Where you from? Who the boss?
Let me break him off
Where you from? Who the boss?
Let me break him off