Lyrics Do Ya Thing - Chamillionaire

Do Ya Thing

Trunk on lift with them golds in your lip
They rushing to the stage but you don’t even trip
Cause you know they wanna hear you drop a gift
Let it rip!
Do your thang, mayn (do your thang, mayn)
Do your thang, mayn (do your thang, mayn)
Ah do your thang, mayn (do your thang, mayn)
Do your thang
Ladies represent!
Do your thang, girl (do your thang, girl)
Do your thang, girl (do your thang, girl)
Ah do your thang, girl (ah, do your thang, girl)
Do your thang
It’s Magno, ya heard!
You can catch me on stage, braids with the shades
Stage like Beeman so I’m bout to get paid
I do it for the city, I do it for the state
And with forty-five interceural belt weighs eight
To the Nouf (Nouf), tracheal spouse
Wood wheel touf, left hand like Eddie Hoff
I kick it with a chick, honey gotta pass mouf
Hit the switch down quick, bunny hop pass douf
That’s where I used to do, now-a-days I’m used to loo
Travel in a brustaloop, swang it like a hula-hoop
Tacoma with the deep-tents, aroma be the weed scent
Tear my hoes apart by persona in they neat prints
Everyday’s spark flamer, old school dunk flamer
Flat upperdunk banger, part-time trunk trainer
I’m the ish I demand diaper
Coming down sand piper in a tan Viper
Either that or a wide body whip (whip)
Big mothership (ship)
Trunk on lift with them golds in your lip
They rushing to the stage but you don’t even trip
Cause you know they wanna hear you drop a gift
Let it rip!
Do your thang, mayn (do your thang, mayn)
Do your thang, mayn (do your thang, mayn)
Ah do your thang, mayn (do your thang, mayn)
Do your thang
Ladies represent!
Do your thang, girl (do your thang, girl)
Do your thang, girl (do your thang, girl)
Ah do your thang, girl (ah, do your thang, girl)
Do your thang
Ay, put’cha in detention and don’t ask for permission
Groupies hopping in and try’na ask what we flippin'
Open up the door I call it suicide mission
Got no door handles, they some track no edition
On my iPod, important on my data
My answers still no but she hoping I’m a date her
Yella as a Laker, I’m more than just a playa
Got dimes in the H, a couple courters in Decatur
Man I should of known that Mike Jordan was a hater
The dude on TV a real perfect imitator
Thinking I’m a save her, I ex-ported traitor
If the chick the air-head, I ain’t trippin' I deflate her
Plus she black, white and run game like the Raiders
She can ask the doe but can’t never say I paid her
I ain’t chilling in the office I’m a holla at’cha later
I’m a be on D-block like them boys that be with Jada
You gotta wide body whip (whip)
Big mothership (ship)
Trunk on lift with them golds in your lip
They rushing to the stage but you don’t even trip
Cause you know they wanna hear you drop a gift
Let it rip!