Lyrics:
'em know)
Unapproachable (yeah), sorry ain't no lotion boy
Ain't no sweet boy (ain't no sweet bitch)
By the morning I'm unsociable, yeah
Hmm,
on the throne
Lighten your tone
You don’t want none
These niggas phony
I'll make a call summon the hommies
Get em involved
She suck my toes
When we making love
No
ho"
So slow your roll because I fold emcees like rheumatism
Syndrome and break 'em down like compression when I be up in 'em
I skip more MC's than
pounds witha fist that will bust lips
Some killaz on my side, if I tell 'em they gon' get
A fiend wiolatin' the business, I ain't wit'
And now in 2000
‘em with a nice for sure
Hope somebody tell ‘em life’s too short
To only talk about it and not fight for more
Well I guess I better write some more
what's left, the judge goes deaf
When you try to tell your side
And you ain't blue eyed
Boy you better duck 'cause the book is comin'
And just hand
rehabilitate 'em, that's the sheriff's story
So what's left, the judge goes deaf
When you try to tell your side
And you ain't blue eyed
Boy you better duck
your clique is with you nigga
'cause I'm killing them all
I'm the victim, you pick 'em, I bust 'em
Crush 'em like cans mississippi's my land
With my dick
the one
Who's gone hold you tight
Whatcha say?
Hey boy, tell me whatcha say?
Can I give you sum to feel?
Lemme putcha in ya zone
Need ya right here by my
not it
Your pretense false
But I like mines, so I keep it
Then revise it
For who? For you? Nah fool
Just me and my bona fide beats
Layin'em so heavily
In Here Mayne.
Tell Em The Name, Tell Em The Name. Chamillitary Mayne.
(Chamillionaire Chorus)
I Hear You Talkin That Talk (That Talk), I Heard You
Be hitting backflips
So just imagine When they older
Yell
Fall they gone dust off they shoulder
Boy don't make em fold ya
I warned ya I told ya
keepin it blunt. Mediocracy kills
And when they askin for me
Tell em that I said it's been real
I'm killin it, im feelin it
I walk in the vicinity
They
things get better for you
'Cause I'ma make things get better for me
And keep it Doggystyle, hottest thing out the LB
The L-L-G wit D-P-G by the sea
We
a psychic
I kick, lyrics like Jet Li
Which produce money to put your
Boy on the beach shit, sand in my feet
Tell me what the fuck you know bout me
Now you
Pampers
See me pull up on 24's, your hoe horny like antlers
[talking]
They messing with you my nigga, but I ain't gotta tell you that
You already know
your soul
cnd if they try to fuckin take it you can tell em where to stick it
Bitch I got drip like a spicket
Tree got me lifted like a truck
mama tore up
Tried to tell you boys that we got this shit sewed up
So many homies dead I can still smell the odor
Everybody's real swear to God they
and yellow insect, maybe
'Til then I kill the bad man tryna slay me
Everything you kick weak, your spit kung fugazi
All my homeboys, 2.0 Boys
Nickle, I
the street in some Texas heat, and us down the road from my cousin, now
Dance some more, close to Mexico and I tell my boys that I left 'em, uh
My feelings
Yea yea I came in this bitch, get started
Gotta tell em who the hardest
Came with the clip aimed at the target
Came with the clique stay with them
get that?
I fuck your girl, give your bitch bad
Pull up in that Benz, hold up girl
He get that
Oh, he did what? I be stunting on 'em
Even the niggas
pleas now, it ain't a secret
Trying to be niggas you can't even speak with
You can't run, you can't hide
Bad Boy 'till the day we die
Tell they all
(Chase Davis on the beat, yeah)
I need the spot with the pots and the pans (pots and the pans)
I got a stick that'll make that boy dance (make
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