Underground Thang

Underground Thang

Chamillionaire

[Chorus: x2 Chamillionaire]
Can't like the hustle man, don't hate the player hate the game.
Gotta love it man.
Catch me flippin' grippin' grain in the turnin' lane, trunk on bang.
Cause its an underground thing cause I'm an underground king.

[Bun B]
Its Bun B the king of the Trill and I'm bringin the steel
Bringin' the maximum bitches that gangsta shit im bringin it back.
I went from slangin' the crack to slangin' the tracks and slangin' my skills
Since 92 and slangin' it still
So bring who you feel bring who you feeling
Bring em around and I'ma lay them down its just another sound boy killin'.
Rude boy wanna test better make sure rude boy got on his vest
Walk with a bunch of bananas on his chest.
These monkey niggas on that monkey shit.
Best keep a revolver I boss like a gorilla and kill 'em with a revolver.
So go on pimpin you's a chimp and I'ma do that
You ain't ready for the blow-back
DJ you already do that
So bring who you wanna bring on I'ma go King Kong
I'll squeeze him till he come up off his cream like a ding dong.
Standin' on top of the towers the trans go beatin' my chest
So it's best you and your mans know I'ma underground king.

[Chorus: x2]

[Pimp C]
I'ma underground king for life, get my good and put in your wife
Tattoo thats you on a island nigga you a pig you buyin' the q.
Sound scan and short bro bump right like a tylo.
Fake price buy ice use it for the ton of snow.
Ball faced lier try to call me a snitch I ditch
The full population with a ball faced bitch
If it wasn't for that Bun niggas might not know my name no more
But every time they gave me my mic he told them hoes to let me go.
DJ trippa suckin' on nipples pimpin on grands she playin' with cock
Pull that zippa she aint Twista she get money fast now its in her mouth
Nigga you know what I'm about if you silent I'm gonna ride
I run the south this is my house I tell the truth even when I lie.
Atlanta is the country and Georgia boys cool
Its all you out of town fagot niggas fuckin' up all the rules.
That ain't blow thats reckon
That ain't dro thats popcorn
You fuckin' right they comin' back
Like you sellin' it cheap cause they stepped on, bitch

[Chorus: x2]

[Chamillionaire]
No reprise for the cars I'm stayin' up in the foreign.
Wanna wake up my neighbors and the other clicks in the mornin'
If me and Bun wasn't tourin' I swear the game would be borin'
If bein' fake was a felony all yall rappers be starrin'.
In Americas most wanted I missed that Pimpin' and Pac
So it seems that me and Bun B is the realest people you got
My paper chase gettin' faster I'm even beaten the clock.
When it comes to gs the tick tock is gonna get beat to the dock.
Gave birth to the hustle so let my fetus be shown
When I pull out them baby Benjamin's and I skeet on your dome.
I'm secreetin' the dough so don't leave your women alone
Ill turn my dick to a dollar and give your women a loan
My presence on the Texas streets is somethin' easy to spot
I'll assassinate concrete for the G's I'm bleedin' the block.
Boys'll see me on swingers and think its easy to plot
But I bet them boys behind me wont be beamin' up Scott.

[Chorus: x2]

Written by BUTLER, CHAD L. / SERIKI, HAKEEM T. / HINDS, DAVID ROBERT / FREEMAN, BERNARD JAMES / MOORE, CORY ALLEN
Published by Universal Music Publishing Group

Lyrics Provided By LyricFind Inc.

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