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Chamillionare - Текст песни switch styles
(*talking*)
 As we get on the proceedings this evening
 Ha-ha, it's Koopa nigga, it's Koopa nigga
 ay man switch styles man, stay switching styles
 You know I'm tal'n bout, switch everything nigga
 Paint switching, no teams
 We ain't switching teams baby, ha already
 It's Color Changin' Click, hey Mix Tape Messiah
 Let's go, let's go, let's go yeah
 [Chamillionaire]
 I was at Strokers in ATL, and they was showing Cham and sluts
 My nigga Killa's Klan with us, and did some sh.. I can't discuss
 They was bad they was yellow, they was saying can you handle us
 Pull the door knob on the ceiling, cause I'm about to handle up
 Showing up at the hotel, now is this chick a fan or what
 If she sipping that's a plus, but not that Crys' cause that's for us
 Come to the hotel wondering if you stripping, that's a must
 Make a meal out of my nuts, and open up a can of suck
 Controversy sells, I swear I spit a rhyme that'll shock
 I wreck so I get respect in the digital underground, like I'm Pac
 Labels scheme and they plot, they telling me sign on the dot
 I cracked a platinum smile and he knew, that was a sign I would not
 No warrants when the laws pull up behind, I'ma stop
 Princes cuts the size of a window, I'ma wind down my watch
 Pussy passenger still mad, cause I'm rewinding on chops
 Tossed his work inside my lap, and said that I got the rocks
 Screens fall like rain, while my trunk shaking like thunder
 (*mumbling*), my verse sound like a mumble
 Onlookers wonder, if I'm level headed or humble
 Till I get to speaking bout drama, then I end a sentence with uh-uh
 Back that I'm Israel, I'm Istanbul I'm thinking Pakistani
 Foreign cars no I'm dressing up, cause the only gator comes after Navi
 Students getting out of barber school, graduating they getting happy
 All my hoes got longer hair, than Cuz of It on the Adams Family
 Sixty inch T.V. screen, I could view from the side angle
 In my crib you'll get lost, it's like the Bermuda Tiangle
 Said I'd knew you'd be a king, so Hakim is what I named you
 I told my mama thanks, now the king is what I claim fool
 When it comes to this rap game nigga, passionate for it brah
 Your c.d. packages showing up, laughing after it's blowing up
 Think I'm playing by my pistol, until I'm smacking it over ya
 Shooting spiders off my rims, like I got arach-a-naphobia
 St. Lunatics say it's tipped, for me that pimp is the drill
 While she tasting my testicles, see the tip of my steel
 Know you getting that scrill, pulling up on whips with the grill
 And if that slab only got fo' you know, it's missing a wheel
 Cause I'm a Texas tycoon, flat T.V. screens in my roomChamillionare - switch styles - http://ru.motolyrics.com/chamillionare/switch-styles-lyrics.html
 So many flakes in my paint, say I need Vidal Sassoon
 Fish in the fish tank gon sip drank, yeah they'll be leaning by noon
 And the two Brazilian beauties, come in to clean my lagoon
 Won't see no damn silver spoon, inside my mouth just my kitchen
 I'm popped up with the trunk up wreck, in other words we tipping
 Looked in my garage, noticed a couple cars is missing
 Let me see one...two...three, my bad I'm tripping
 Kinda look like I'm Cripping, when my paint change to blue
 By the way my paint change to red, you would swear I'm claiming that too
 Yeah they be banging that Whoo Kid, and be banging that Clue
 But down in Texas the changer, ain't never changing from Screw
 Seen the slugs that you spittin at me, I mean the slugs that you missin at me
 Seen you and you ain't getting at me, man the game is really getting crappy
 ATL with Killa Kill, Status Quo and that Lil' Scrappy
 I don't wear no throwbacks, cause the trend is really getting tacky
 Commercial won't hurt you, cause that's gon get you mo' cash
 But spend that cash on security, cause we gon whip your ass
 Music slower than a running turtle, tell you what they sip in my circle
 Samuel Jackson, Whoopie Goldberg, Oprah Winfrey the color purple
 (*talking*)
 Ha-ha (ha-ha), that was a good one
 That was a good one, ha-ha
 [Chamillionaire]
 I told you you don't want problems, you didn't believe it
 Go get a bodyguard, cause you're gonna need it
 We're gonna bomb you, worse than Osama
 Get it in your head, nigga I tried to warn ya
 All these boys acting like, they be getting do'
 But you can't hide the truth, a real baller gon know
 All these boys acting like, they ain't really hoes
 But you can't hide the truth, a real nigga gon know
 All these boys acting like, they can call a stone
 Let's break these boys off, and let em know we got it so-o-o-o-o-wed
Mix Tape, Mi-Mix Tape, Mi-Mix Tape Messiah - 3x
 Hey I'm fins to do my thaaaang, hey I'm repping Color Chaaaange
 Hey we fins to do our thaaaang, hey I'm repping Color Chaaaange
 (*talking*)
 We gon slap box, soon as we done
 That shit was no test, let's see who gets the most hits to the head
 I'ma slap the shit out you watch, wish a nigga would
 Let the motherfucker touch me, I'm gon smack the shit out of him
 I ain't no fucking punk, nigga you better get that-aaah hold up
 Oh shit (*gun shot*)










