|
Chamillionaire - Switch Styles lyrics
(*talking*) As we get on the proceedings this evening Ha-ha, it's Koopa nigga, it's Koopa nigga Hey man switch styles man, stay switching styles You know I'm tal'n bout, switch everything nigga Paint switching, no teams We ain't switching teams baby, ha already It's Color Changin' Click, hey Mix Tape Messiah Let's go, let's go, let's go yeah [Chamillionaire] I was at Strokers in ATL, and they was showing Cham and sluts My nigga Killa's Klan with us, and did some sh.. I can't discuss They was bad they was yellow, they was saying can you handle us Pull the door knob on the ceiling, cause I'm about to handle up Showing up at the hotel, now is this chick a fan or what If she sipping that's a plus, but not that Crys' cause that's for us Come to the hotel wondering if you stripping, that's a must Make a meal out of my nuts, and open up a can of suck Controversy sells, I swear I spit a rhyme that'll shock I wreck so I get respect in the digital underground, like I'm Pac Labels scheme and they plot, they telling me sign on the dot I cracked a platinum smile and he knew, that was a sign I would not No warrants when the laws pull up behind, I'ma stop Princes cuts the size of a window, I'ma wind down my watch Pussy passenger still mad, cause I'm rewinding on chops Tossed his work inside my lap, and said that I got the rocks Screens fall like rain, while my trunk shaking like thunder (*mumbling*), my verse sound like a mumble Onlookers wonder, if I'm level headed or humble Till I get to speaking bout drama, then I end a sentence with uh-uh Back that I'm Israel, I'm Istanbul I'm thinking Pakistani Foreign cars no I'm dressing up, cause the only gator comes after Navi Students getting out of barber school, graduating they getting happy All my hoes got longer hair, than Cousin It on the Adams Family Sixty inch T.V. screen, I could view from the side angle In my crib you'll get lost, it's like the Bermuda Tiangle Said I'd knew you'd be a king, so Hakim is what I named you I told my mama thanks, now the king is what I claim fool When it comes to this rap game nigga, passionate for it brah Your c.d. packages showing up, laughing after it's blowing up Think I'm playing by my pistol, until I'm smacking it over ya Shooting spiders off my rims, like I got arach-a-naphobia St. Lunatics say it's tipped, for me that pimp is the drill While she tasting my testicles, see the tip of my steel Know you getting that scrill, pulling up on whips with the grill And if that slab only got fo' you know, it's missing a wheel Cause I'm a Texas tycoon, flat T.V. screens in my room So many flakes in my paint, say I need Vidal Sassoon Fish in the fish tank gon sip drank, yeah they'll be leaning by noon And the two Brazilian beauties, come in to clean my lagoon Won't see no damn silver spoon, inside my mouth just my kitchen I'm popped up with the trunk up wreck, in other words we tipping Looked in my garage, noticed a couple cars is missing Let me see one...two...three, my bad I'm tripping Kinda look like I'm Cripping, when my paint change to blue By the way my paint change to red, you would swear I'm claiming that too Yeah they be banging that Whoo Kid, and be banging that Clue But down in Texas the changer, ain't never changing from Screw Seen the slugs that you spittin at me, I mean the slugs that you missin at me Seen you and you ain't getting at me, man the game is really getting crappy ATL with Killa Kill, Status Quo and that Lil' Scrappy I don't wear no throwbacks, cause the trend is really getting tacky Commercial won't hurt you, cause that's gon get you mo' cash But spend that cash on security, cause we gon whip your ass Music slower than a running turtle, tell you what they sip in my circle Samuel Jackson, Whoopie Goldberg, Oprah Winfrey the color purple (*talking*) Ha-ha (ha-ha), that was a good one That was a good one, ha-ha [Chamillionaire] I told you you don't want problems, you didn't believe it Go get a bodyguard, cause you're gonna need it We're gonna bomb you, worse than Osama Get it in your head, nigga I tried to warn ya All these boys acting like, they be getting do' But you can't hide the truth, a real baller gon know All these boys acting like, they ain't really hoes But you can't hide the truth, a real nigga gon know All these boys acting like, they can call a stone Let's break these boys off, and let em know we got it so-o-o-o-o-wed Mix Tape, Mi-Mix Tape, Mi-Mix Tape Messiah - 3x Hey I'm fins to do my thaaaang, hey I'm repping Color Chaaaange Hey we fins to do our thaaaang, hey I'm repping Color Chaaaange (*talking*) We gon slap box, soon as we done That shit was no test, let's see who gets the most hits to the head I'ma slap the shit out you watch, wish a nigga would of- Let the motherfucker touch me, I'm gon smack the shit out of him I ain't no fucking punk, nigga you better get that-aaah hold up Oh shit (*gun shot*) |
|
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Last added lyrics |
|---|
 Rather Ripped by Sonic Youth |
 Fear of Flying by Mya |
 Insomniac by Enrique Iglesias |
 Blood Stained Love Story by Saliva |
 Lovers' Requiem by I Am Ghost |
