[Intro]
[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
SShowed up
It's the southern takeover
It's over
You better tell em I got drinks that stand on top try and stop
Pop pop pop
[Mr. Mike]
It's the Mr. Falcon Toter, cook cook coke with baking soda
Blun roller, dro smoker, wood gripper, pistol whipper
Light your n***a if he figure f**in' wit my click will make him
Richer, he should know instead of it will make him deader
Deader money, f**ing with my money, get yo money
Stacked right out of Sunday School
On a bright and sunny sunday, this ain't fun
I ain't joking bout my coke and package from a shaolin
Might kidnap your wife and daughter, bury them down deep in Georgia
No D.A. or f**ing lawyers prosecuting witnesses
We executing, start to shooting, starting to do this f**ing violence
Start a riot, get this muthaf**er crunk or as crunk you can get it
That that dro, I'm a hit it, out of line, n***a I spit it
Spit it, live it, cause I live it, you don't walk it, you just talkin
Pistol totin and they knowing that's my snow and got his dope and
I ain't holdin, steady slangin, right on your black-a-block
Hit your trap, set up shop, try and stop, blot blot block
[Chorus - Chamillionaire]
Just look over your shoulder
Shoulder
Let me see who just showed up
Showed up
It's the southern takeover
It's over
You betta tell em I got drinks that stand on top try and stop
Pop pop pop
[Chamillionaire]
This ain't about a image, this ain't about a gimmick
Cause you stand to the side and the game gotta diminish
I'm damn sure that this city don't think that he the realest
He whooping on his a** before he finishing his sentence
I've only got a minute to tell you about a digit
You looking at a n***a like I ain't about to get it
I'm looking at the money like I ain't about to finish
So you need to mind your business if you worried bout your business
Uh, I'm a H-Town Soldier, I'm a come
With the trunk up, and don't remind cha
If you say your getting it, shoulda told you bout a
n***a named Chamillionaire that's fo sho a problem
You don't want no problem
Problem
Got amnesia gonna let the fo-fo remind 'em
Yeah you tip on and ride em, We ride 4-4s when the dough beside 'em
6'6 taller looking like he a sinner, 10 tattoos looking like he a k**er
Skinny a** n***as don't fight with a n***a, Pull out a billfold, put a price on a n***a
It's kinfolk, put a knife in a n***a from his car to his pocket then right in his liver
It was a big boy to put a slice in the middle, ? Mr. Mike with the k**er
Don't mess with the south, homie that's a dream, hallucinating or imagining
We so XXL with the gats I mean, something ready to blow in the magazine
You know that them southern cash is mean, front dents smile for me when I stash my cream
Pull up with the candy paint that'll match my green, k**er, Pastor, they just ain't imagining
[Chorus - Chamillionaire]
Just look over your shoulder
Shoulder
Let me see who just showed up
Showed up
It's the southern takeover
It's over
You betta tell em I got drinks that stand on top try and stop
Pop pop pop
[Pastor Troy]
Y'all know me as PT, well uh huh and all of that
Black on black with black tip, I can't help but represent
I content I wanna know who the f** you take me for
Studio rappers without your boy's tape, drop my top and bust my ak
No more play in G-A, yeah that's a cla**ic
Riding in the cla**ic, totin' me a plastic
Send 'em to the casket, send 'em to the morgue
Slap me a n***a cause I'm muthaf**in' bored
Chamillionaire, I kinda fond of my surroundings
Get my Desert Eagle and get to muthaf**in' pounding
Up and down the street, throwin' heat out the driver seat
Riding to the beat, tell them n***as adjust they feet
[Chorus x2]