[Intro: Chamillionaire & Killer Mike]
The Sound of Revenge
Haha whoo
Tell 'em what it is man, tell 'em what it is
Welcome to the new world order!
Atlanta, Georgia!
Houston, Texas
The South is officially taking over
Y'all already know
[Hook: Chamillionaire & Killer Mike]
Just look over your shoulders, shoulders
Let me see who just showed up, showed up
It's the southern takeover, its over
Better tell 'em
I got dreams to stand on top
Try and stop, blot blot block
Just look over your shoulders, shoulders
Let me see who just showed up, showed up
It's the southern takeover, its over
Better tell 'em
I got dreams to stand on top
Try and stop, blot blot block
[Verse 1: Killer Mike]
It's the mister four-fifth toter
Cooking coke with baking soda
Dub roller, pro smoker, wood gripper, pistol whipper
Muck a nigga if he figure fucking with my figures makes him richer
He should know instead that it will make him deader
That remind me, fucking with my money
Get yo money snatched right out of Sunday School
On a bright and sunny Sunday, this ain't funny
I ain't joking bout my coke and package come up shorter
Might kidnap your wife and daughter
Bury them down deep in Georgia
No D.A. or fucking lawyer prosecuting
Witnesses we executing, start the shooting, start the looting
Start the violence, start a riot
Get this motherfucker crunker, crunk you can get it
Pass that dro, I'mma hit it
Out of line, nigga I spit it
Spit it vivid, cause I live it
You don't walk it, you just talk it
Pistol toting and unloading, that's my slogan, 'bout this dope and
I ain't holdin, steady slangin', right on your trap or block
Take your trap, set up shop
Try and stop, blot! blot! blot!
The Sound of Revenge
Haha whoo
Tell 'em what it is man, tell 'em what it is
Welcome to the new world order!
Atlanta, Georgia!
Houston, Texas
The South is officially taking over
Y'all already know
[Hook: Chamillionaire & Killer Mike]
Just look over your shoulders, shoulders
Let me see who just showed up, showed up
It's the southern takeover, its over
Better tell 'em
I got dreams to stand on top
Try and stop, blot blot block
Just look over your shoulders, shoulders
Let me see who just showed up, showed up
It's the southern takeover, its over
Better tell 'em
I got dreams to stand on top
Try and stop, blot blot block
[Verse 1: Killer Mike]
It's the mister four-fifth toter
Cooking coke with baking soda
Dub roller, pro smoker, wood gripper, pistol whipper
Muck a nigga if he figure fucking with my figures makes him richer
He should know instead that it will make him deader
That remind me, fucking with my money
Get yo money snatched right out of Sunday School
On a bright and sunny Sunday, this ain't funny
I ain't joking bout my coke and package come up shorter
Might kidnap your wife and daughter
Bury them down deep in Georgia
No D.A. or fucking lawyer prosecuting
Witnesses we executing, start the shooting, start the looting
Start the violence, start a riot
Get this motherfucker crunker, crunk you can get it
Pass that dro, I'mma hit it
Out of line, nigga I spit it
Spit it vivid, cause I live it
You don't walk it, you just talk it
Pistol toting and unloading, that's my slogan, 'bout this dope and
I ain't holdin, steady slangin', right on your trap or block
Take your trap, set up shop
Try and stop, blot! blot! blot!
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