Lyrics Turn It Up (Remix) by Chamillionaire lyrics
View lyrics Turn It Up (Remix) by Chamillionaire Listen to Turn It Up (Remix) online free. Best songs by Chamillionaire. Browse songs similar to Turn It Up (Remix) using our search engine.
(*Talking*) Chamillitary- S.U.C. mix, hol' up This is the Sound of Revenge This for all my O.G. Screw Heads Rest in Peace to Fat Pat, DJ Screw I'ma show ya, how to work a wood wheel Chrome lady, leaning over that grill Getting money, repping for the hood still You know, I'ma keep it all the way trill Trunk pop, sitting crooked on 4's Hit a club, man we finna get thoed Got the world, body rocking fa sho so Tell the DJ, to screw it down for me real slow (Chamillionaire)
Making a good feeling grinning, gripping the wood wheeling Candy do's glassy 4's, sitting up under the hood bending You know how we live it, swangas under the hood spinning You could look at my five fingers, see it's nothing but wood in em Man got to do it, when I do it I do it big Them haters getting pissed, Chamillitary and Screwed Up Click Head out to the crib, stick ya fingers in the fridge Some'ing cold to get ya throwed, go on fill it up to the lid The multi-colored bling, raises up my self-esteem Got me feeling like the only thing, hot as myself is steam Don't mean to cause a scene, but almost every time I'm seen Looking like another scene, out of Johnny the Jeweler's dreams Out that Houston Texas, where we bigger but we badder I'm a Southern nigga, you could see it in my swagger I could go commercial, but I won't 'cause I would rather
Keep heat and keep it street, Sound of Revenge I'ma get at ya boy (Lil' O) I'ma show you boys, how to work a wood wheel First thing game face on, hand on a steel You gotta be ready, in the land of the trill 'Cause if them jackers catch ya slipping, lil' man it's for real Second thing dog, when your hands on the grain It never hurts, to have a lil' ice in your ring Unless the boppers know, that you got a lil' change So they gotta come correct, 'cause you're not the one for games Third thang dog, man your trunk gotta knock So they hear ya ten seconds, 'fore you come around the block If you wanna square it off, stop and drop the top Chunk up the deuce, then let your trunk pop
And when your trunk pop, man that bitch gotta glow Pay attention dog, I'm a break 'em off pro Ya tuned into the sounds, of that boy Lil' O Da Fat Rat Wit Da Cheeze in the H, this how it go nigga (H.A.W.K.) Let's get it crunk let's make it jump, H-A-Dub on keep it pump Smoke a blunt pop a trunk, I'ma teach you boys how to stunt H-Town's my stomping ground, a legend from the underground You heard the buzz in your town, a new king has been crowned Turn it up a lil' bit, cause this jam is the shit This is the Remix, and H.A.W.K. was the perfect fit Now this is a smash hit, produced by Scott Storch The effort I'm gon put forth, I'ma blaze a track like a human torch In H-Town we do it up, Chop it up and Screw it up
Purple weed and purple stuff, now everybody doing us Here's the deal grab the wheel, at stop signs we don't yield Swang left then swang right, don't let your damn drank spill The real deal ain't no bluff, am I the baddest sho' nuff Now turn that damn music up, and make sho' it's slowed up Screwed up or Slowed down, we representing H-Town And if you ain't from around, this how it go down (E.S.G.) Yeah E.S.G. now the king is back, Chamillionaire next up to bat Get up in the cats we'll snatch your tracks, sit Lacs blue and the Porsche is black Down here our music Slowed, don't prefer no 6-4's Than a '66 Lincoln, with the suicide do's Trunk glow sitting low, like my last name was Kennedy Sound scan man, sold a million independently O.G. like I'm Eazy, hot boy like Weezy Got the hood saying yeah, like I'm Young Jeezy Sipping on drank my bed is swollen, hotel suites with Kelly Rowland Texas, Louisiana, Georgia drop top Cheve's rolling "Wanna be a Baller" I wrote that, Screw microphone I broke that Get out of line, I'll send your ass where the Pope at Bentley Coupe-a me and Koopa, tipping by them state troopers Round here, boys disappear like it was a roofer Land of the trill, got me grill grilling woman Every summer dropping bombs, like we was out in London yeah (*Talking*) Respect the originator, Rest in Peaces DJ Screw Stay down and stay thoed, and stay true
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