[Intro]
Gun cocking, shots fired.

[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)
Look and see who just showed up (showed up)
It's the southern takeover (its over)
You betta tell em I got dreams to stand on top try and stop (blot blot blot)



[Killer Mike]
It's the mister fo fifth(45)toter
Cookin coke with baking soda
Dub roller, pro smoker
Wood gripper,a pistol whipper.
mic tha nigga if he figure
Fuckin with my figures.
Makes him richer, he should know.
Instead of, it'll make him deader than the money fuckin with my money.
Get yo money stack right outta sunday school
On a bright and sunny sunday.
This ain't funny.
I ain't jokin bout my coke and package come up shorter.
Might kidnap yo wife and daughter.
Bury them down deep in Georgia.
No D.A.s or f**kin lawyers prosecutin.
Witnesses We excutin, start the shootin, start the lootin,
Start the violence, start a riot.
Get this motherfucker crunker, crunk as you can get it.
Pass that dro, I'm a hit it.
Outta line, wig i split it it,
spit it vivid, cause i live it.
You don't walk it, you just talk it.
Pistol totin, and unloadin.
That's how snowin' got this dope
And i aint holdin, steady slangin
Right on yo trappa block.
Take your trap, set up shop.
Try and stop (blot blot blot).

[Chorus]

[Chamillionaire]
Hey hey, this ain't about an image.
This ain't about a gimmick.
Pussys stand to the side.
Now the game got a menace.
I damn say tha city that I claim is not the realest.
We bombin on his ass.
Wait fo the shit to sentence.
I only got a minute.
If it ain't about a digit.
Find More lyrics at www.sweetslyrics.com
You lookin at a nigga like I ain't about to get it.
I'm lookin at the money like I ain't about to finish.
So You need to mind your business.
If you ain't about your business.(Ughn)
I'm a H-town soldier.
I'm a come with the trunk up yeah I'm gon remind ya.
If you me gettin it shoulda told you about a.
Nigga chamillionaire thats fo show a problem.
You don't want no problem (problem).
Got amnesia should let the fo fo remind em.
Ya you tip on the ride em.
we ridin fo fos on the door beside em.
6' 6" tall lookin like he a center.
Tear tatoos lookin like he a killa.
Skinny ass niggas don't fight with a nigga.
Pull out a billfold, put a price on a nigga.
I'll have his kinfolk put a knife in a nigga.
From the car to his pocket then right in your liver.
Was a big boy that put a slice in the middle.
Ya head fast think a killa mic with the killa.
Don't mess with the south homie, thats a dream,
You hallucinating or imagining so.
Double XL with the gats I mean,
Keep somethin ready to blow in the magazine.
And you know that southern cash is mean.
Franklins frown for me when I stash my cream.
Pull up in candy paint that'll match my green.
Killer, Pastor, and Koopa mayne cha-ching.

[Chorus]

[Pastor Troy]
Y'all know me, it's PT.
Well I hunt and all of that,
Black on black, with black tip.
I can't help but represent.
I'm not content, I want more.
Who the f**k you take me for?
Studio rappers not the fortay.
drop my top and bust my AK.
No mo play,in G.A
Yeah, that's a classic.
Ridin in a classic.
Tot'in me a blaster
Send em to the casket.
Send em to the morgue.
Slap me a nigga cause i'm motherf**kin bored.
Chamillionaire, I camoflouge in my surrounding.
Get my desert e'z(eagle) and get to motherf**kin poundin.
Up and down the streets,
Throwin heat, out the driver's seat,
Ridin to the beat,
Tell them nigga that they weak.

[Chorus] x2

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