Jermaine Dupri and Ludacris - Welcome to Atlanta

Yeah
Welcome to Atlanta, jackin' hammers and vogues
Back to the mackin' and jackin' the clothes, adolescent packin' a four
A knock on the door, who is it? I would happen to know
The one with the flow, who did it?, It was me I suppose
JD in the Rolls and Luda's in the Cut Supreme
Skatin' down Old Nat, gat tucked and leaned
I split your spleen, as a matter of fact I split your team
No blood on the sneaks, gotta keep it so my kicks is clean
I get the cream, cops see me flick my beams
I'm allergic so doc prescribed antihistamines
Oink oink, pig pig, do away with the pork
Only silverware I needs a steak knife and a fork
Did you forget your fuckin manners? I'm Bruce with Banners
Ludacris, Johnny Rockets when I shoot the cannons
The Wooly Mammoth Sabretooth, bitch bite your tongue
I won't stop until I'm rich as them whites'll come
I pulled up in the black Lotus, your plaques are bogus
So I stripped them off the wall
Waitin' for my cue to corner pocket eight balls
You rackin 'em up
I'm big paper like pancakes, stackin' 'em up
In fact I'm slappin 'em up, Cadallac'n the truck
I can't loose with twenty-two, bitch that's what's up
Runnin' in the back to fuck, better tha-than the aquaduct
Chil-li-li-li-lin', fli-pi-pi-pi-pi-n, what?

Yo, yo, yo, yo
Y-y-yo yo, yo-yo-yo
Yo yo-yo-yo, yo-yo, yo
Y-yo, yo, yo-yo-yo-yo-yo yo

Welcome to Atlanta, where the players play
And we ride on them thangs like every day
Big beats, hit streets, see gangsters roamin'
And parties don't stop 'til eight in the mornin'
Welcome to Atlanta, where the players play
And we ride on them thangs like every day
Big beats, hit streets, see gangsters roamin' (uh-huh)
And parties don't stop 'til eight in the mornin' (yo, uh)

Now the party don't start 'til I walk in
And I usually don't leave until the thang ends (uh)
But in the meantime, in between time
You work yo' thing, I'll work mine
I been puttin' it down here since '83
Since the Lakeshore-MD rivalry
When Frozen Paradise was the place to be
If you was ridin', you was bumping to homie Shy-D
I'm the M.B.P., Most Ballin-ist Player (uh-huh)
Make my own rules, bitch call me the mayor
Monday night, Gentlemen's Club
Tuesday night, I'm up in the Velvet Room, gettin' fucked up
Wednesday, I'm at Strokers on lean
Thursday, Jump Clean, then I fall up in Kream
Friday, Shark Bar, Kaya with Frank Ski
Right on the floor is where you can find me
Saturday, is off the heezy for sheezy
You can find me up in One-Tweezy
Sunday, is when I get my sleep in
'Cause on Monday we be at it again, holla

Yo, yo, y-y-yo, yo, yo
Y-y-yo yo, yo-yo-yo
Yo yo-yo-yo, yo-yo, yo
Y-yo, yo, yo-yo-yo-yo-yo yo

Welcome to Atlanta, where the players play
And we ride on them thangs like every day
Big beats, hit streets, see gangsters roamin'
And parties don't stop 'til eight in the mornin'
Welcome to Atlanta, where the players play
And we ride on them thangs like every day
Big beats, hit streets, see gangsters roamin'
And parties don't stop 'til eight in the mornin'
Welcome to Atlanta, where the players play
And we ride on them thangs like every day
Big beats, hit streets, see gangsters roamin'
And parties don't stop 'til eight in the mornin'
Welcome to Atlanta, where the players play
And we ride on them thangs like every day
Big beats, hit streets, see gangsters roamin'
And parties don't stop 'til eight in the mornin'

Written by:
Christopher Brian Bridges, Jermaine Dupri, James Hutchins, Tohri Murphy Lee Harper, Frederick J. Perren, Lawrence Smith, Christine Yarian Perren

Publisher:
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC

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