🎵Ludacris - Screwed Up

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lyrics
We sendin' this one out from everybody
I mean to everybody
From the H town to the A town and worldwide
So get your lighters, get your drank
And I tell you what
I'm so fucked up, and screwed up
If anybody try to blow my high
You know what I'ma tell 'em?
Fuck you, fuck you
Fuck you, fuck you
Fuck you, fuck you
Fuck you, fuck you
I'm screwed up
I felt better than I ever felt before, I'm
Intoxicated but maintaining self-control, I
I took a swig, I had a jug chug-a-lug, I'm loud and clear
I had some Bud, I lit it up, and then I made it disappear
'Cause my magic tricks are so fabolous
This shit's hazardous, got amateurs smokin' cannibus
If you mad at this, damn it then
Fuck you, fuck you
Fuck you, fuck you
Fuck you, fuck you
Fuck you, fuck you
I'm screwed up
I take a call to my dog trying to split the blunt and break it up
Three-wheel motion, purple potion, I got to shake it up
I tried to kick the habit, but it keep callin' me
Abracadabra, it's a magic trick, I smoked up all the weed
Zigzags and golden wraps got my mind gone
Drugs don't effect my work, I still get my grind on
Fuck you, fuck you
Fuck you, fuck you
Fuck you, fuck you
Fuck you, fuck you
I'm screwed up
I'm leanin' like the tower of Pisa and a syrum squeezer
Come close to my stash and get treated as if I'm Ebaneeza
I'm throwed, blowed, matter of fact, let's call this 'the thrower potion
I'm screwed up, so no wonder thangs are in slower motion
I gots to have it, can't kick the habit, I've tried to shake it
The drug experiment stage, if you mistaken then
Fuck you, fuck you
Fuck you, fuck you
Fuck you, fuck you
Fuck you, fuck you
I'm screwed up
I'm from screwed up Texas
We drive wreckless, and then we peel off
You ain't had shit until you smoke sweet tooth in Jack Frost
Hit it twice but don't cough, you gotta take it man
If it's a record for smokin' I'm bout' to break it man
Me and Luda puffin' buda
We in a black Cougar on Sab Jewelers
You try to jack us, we grab rulers
Fuck you, fuck you
Fuck you, fuck you
Fuck you, fuck you
Fuck you, fuck you
I'm screwed up
How can I say it plain
That I'm off that Mary Jane
And if it's true what they say then
I don't know how many cells is left in my fuckin' brain
But I'ma keep on writin' enlighten minds of these hungry rappers
And tell the hood that I've hired niggas and fire crackers
On the Fourth of July, open your eyes, I'm jokin' stupid
I love all races, but if you hatin' my music then
Fuck you, fuck you
Fuck you, fuck you
Fuck you, fuck you
Fuck you, fuck you
I'm screwed up
I love my occupation, we never have to take a piss test
Fuckin' nine-to-five 'cause I'm always gettin' rest
I wake up to breakfast in head
You wake up to breakfast in bed
Should I drop my H2, hmm, I'ma take the Lexus instead
Pimpin' ain't dead, but I leave you niggas dead from all this pimpin'
I'm ridin' spinners like a pimp, that's why I'm limpin'
Fuck you, fuck you
Fuck you, fuck you
Fuck you, fuck you
Fuck you, fuck you
I'm screwed up
All substances that's controlled, that's how this story goes
I pop the cap, broke the ice and lil' flip done broke the mould
I'm so cold, I think I see dead people
No, that's just my homies passed out in the Regal, believe it
The potency is so strong if you notice me, I'm calm
Cool and collected, and if you disrespect it, then
Fuck you, fuck you
Fuck you, fuck you
Fuck you, fuck you
Fuck you, fuck you
I'm screwed up
We doin' this for them playas that bang screw music
We don't pass out after eight blunts, because we used to it
Me and 'Cris like chee chee chong
So hurry, bring out the weed and the bones
'Cause if it ain't grade A trees, we gotta leave it alone
And to my homie screw, you know I gotta hold it down
And if they want it then they gotta come and take the crown
Fuck you, fuck you
Fuck you, fuck you
Fuck you, fuck you
Fuck you, fuck you
I'm screwed up
Haha, haha, ha-ha
So there you have it
Sendin' this one out to all my drankers
And all my smokers
United and lighted we stand, inebriated we fall
But if you wanna pass the sobriety and breathalyzer test
Here's a quick Luda tip
Some packets were busted in your car
Keep bustin' goddamn it
And whoever said niggas in the South can't rhyme
Fuck you, fuck you
Fuck you, fuck you
Fuck you, fuck you
Fuck you, fuck you
I'm screwed up
Source: Musixmatch
Songwriters: Christopher Bridges / Wesley Weston / Raymond Poole

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