Chamillionaire - Southern Takeover lyrics

(feat. k**er Mike, Pastor Troy) [Intro] Gun co*king, shots fired. [Chamillionaire] The sound of revenge, haha. Woo, tell em what it is mayne (tell em what it is). [Pastor Troy] Welcome to the New World Order. Atlanta, Georgia. [Chamillionaire] Houston, Texas, he already know. [Pastor Troy] The south is takin over. [Chorus x2 - Chamillionaire] Just look over your shoulder (shoulder) Let me see who just showed up (showed up) It's the southern takeover (its over) You betta tell em I got dreams to stand on top, try and stop (pop pop pop) [k**er Mike] It's the mister fo fifth told em Cookin coke with baking soda Dub roller, pro smoker Wood gripper, pistol whipper. Muck a n***a if he figure F**kin with my figures. Makes him richer, he should know. Instead, it'll make him better than a money f**kin with my money. Get yo money stacked right outta sunday school On a bright and sunny sunday. This ain't funny. I ain't jokin bout my coke and package come up shorter. Might kidnap yo wife and daughter. Bury them down deep in Georgia. No D.A.s a f**kin lawyer prosecutin witnesses. We excutin, start the shootin, start the lukin, Start the violence, start a riot. Get this motherf**er crunker, crunk as you can get it. Pa** that dro, I'm a hit it. Outta line, we gon spit it, spit it vivid, cause i live it. You don't walk it, you just talk it. Pistol totin, and a loadin. That's how smokin got this dope And i aint hopin, steady slangin Right on yo trappa block. Take your track, set up shop. Try and stop (pop pop pop). [Chorus] [Chamillionaire] Hey hey, this ain't about an image. This ain't about a gimmick. P**sys stand to the side. Now the game got a menace. I damn seen a city that I think is not the realest. We bummin on his a**. He ain't finishin his sentence. I only got a minute. I feelin about a digit. You lookin at a n***a like I ain't about to get it. I'm lookin at the money like I ain't about to finish. You need to mind your business. If you ain't about your business. I'm a H-town soldier. I'm a come with the trunk up yeah I'm a gon remind ya. If you ain't gettin it you shoulda told ya father. n***a chamillionaire never show no problems. You don't want no problem (problem). Get em g'ed shoulda let the fo fo remind em. Ya you tip on the ride em. I be ridin fo fos on the door beside em. 6' 6" tall lookin like he a center. 10 tatoos lookin like he a k**a. Skinny a** n***as don't fight with a n***a. Pull out a billfold, put a price on a n***a. I have this camp fo put a knife in a n***a. From the car to his pocket then right in your liver. Was a big boy that put a slice in the middle. Ya head fast think you hold a mike with the k**a. Don't mess with the south homie, thats a dream, Hallucinate or imagining so. Double XL with the gats I mean, Keep somethin ready to blow in the magazine. And you know that southern cash is mean. Franklins frown for me when I stash my cream. Pull up in candy paint that match my green. k**er, Pastor, and Koopa are the master machine. [Chorus] [Pastor Troy] Y'all know me, it's PT. Well I hunt and all of that, Black on black, with black tip. I can't help but represent. I'm not content, I want more. Who the f**k you take me for? Studio rappers not the fortay. I drop my top and bust my AK. No mo play, n***a NGA. Yeah, that's a cla**ic. Ridin in the cla**ic. Tote a mill, and I blast em. Send em to the casket. Send em to the morgue. Slap me a n***a cause i'm motherf**kin bored. Chamillionaire, I camoflouge in my surrounding. Get my desert E's and get to motherf**kin poundin. Up and down the streets, Throwin heat, out the driver's seat, Ridin to the beat, Tell them n***a just lay weak. [Chorus x2]