Southern Takeover lyrics

Song information

Artist: Chamillionaire
Album: The Sound Of Revenge

Lyrics

[Intro]
Gun cocking, 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

Chorusx2 [chamillionaire]
Just look over your shoulder (shoulder)
Look and 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 (blot blot blot)

[Killer mike]
It's the mister fo fifth(45)toter
Cookin coke with baking soda
Dub roller, pro smoker
Wood gripper,pistol whipper
Mic tha nigga if he figure
Fuckin with my figures
Makes him richer, he should know
Instead of, it'll make him deader than the money fuckin with my money
Get yo money stack 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 or f**kin lawyers prosecutin
Witnesses we excutin, start the shootin, start the lootin
Start the violence, start a riot
Get this motherfucker crunker, crunk as you can get it
Pass that dro, I'm a hit it
Outta line, wig I split it it
Spit it vivid, cause I live it
You don't walk it, you just talk it
Pistol totin, and unloadin
That's how snowin' got this dope
And I aint holdin, steady slangin
Right on yo trappa block
Take your trap, set up shop
Try and stop (blot blot blot)

Chorus

[Chamillionaire]
Hey hey, this ain't about an image
This ain't about a gimmick
Pussys stand to the side
Now the game got a menace
I damn say tha city that I claim is not the realest
We bombin on his ass
Wait fo the shit to sentence
I only got a minute
If it ain't about a digit
You lookin at a nigga like I ain't about to get it
I'm lookin at the money like I ain't about to finish
So you need to mind your business
If you ain't about your business.(ughn)
I'm a h-town soldier
I'm a come with the trunk up yeah I'm gon remind ya
If you me gettin it shoulda told you about a
Nigga chamillionaire thats fo show a problem
You don't want no problem (problem)
Got amnesia should let the fo fo remind em
Ya you tip on the ride em
We ridin fo fos on the door beside em
6' 6" tall lookin like he a center
Tear tatoos lookin like he a killa
Skinny ass niggas don't fight with a nigga
Pull out a billfold, put a price on a nigga
I'll have his kinfolk put a knife in a nigga
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 a killa mic with the killa
Don't mess with the south homie, thats a dream
You hallucinating 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'll match my green
Killer, pastor, and koopa mayne cha-ching

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
Drop my top and bust my ak
No mo play,in g.a
Yeah, that's a classic
Ridin in a classic
Tot'in me a blaster
Send em to the casket
Send em to the morgue
Slap me a nigga cause I'm motherf**kin bored
Chamillionaire, I camoflouge in my surrounding
Get my desert e'z(eagle) and get to motherf**kin poundin
Up and down the streets
Throwin heat, out the driver's seat
Ridin to the beat
Tell them nigga that they weak

Chorus x2