Chamillionaire - Southern Takeover (dirty) lyrics

[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]