Chamillionaire Switch Styles Lyrics

Switch Styles Lyrics

(*talking*)

As we get on the proceedings this evening

Ha-ha, it's Koopa nigga, it's Koopa nigga

Hey 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 Cousin 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 room

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 of-

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*)