Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Man Hold Up, artist - Chamillionaire. Album song Mixtape Messiah 2, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 30.04.2006
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: chamillitary
Song language: English
Man Hold Up |
Hold up, hold up |
If you got change for a dollar in your pocket right now |
Then it’s time to exit the club |
If you’ve been sippin out the same cup since you got here and now you swallowin |
ice (woo) |
Then it’s time to exit the club |
If you made one toss and all the money you had disappeared, then please step to |
the rear |
Then it’s time to step your game up |
Ch-ch-cheah, ch-ch-cheah, ch-ch-cheah, Chamillitary mayne |
Got a couple grand hold it up (up) |
With your left hand and say man hold up (man hold up) |
Boys in the front blowin up (up) |
With the fat stacks in the club, that’s us (man that’s us) |
My boys got the club sewed up |
Stacks so fat, that they can’t fold up (can't fold up) |
The girls in the club know us (us) |
Because we act bad everytime we show up (sho nuff) |
Yeah, you know it’s on tonight |
I got 'em strippin for my tip when I’m in «Harlem Nights» ($ 5 Tuesdays nigga) |
Uh, yeah and I got on all this ice (woo) |
I just came from Johnny the Jeweler, better guard your sight (just paid Johnny |
partner) |
Uh, yeah, in Dallas «Gentlemen's» |
These other boys is holdin ones, we holdin Benjamins (that's real talk) |
Uh, yeah, go ahead and send 'em in |
Cause we so rich, them haters sick, but ain’t no medicine (them haters sick) |
Uh, yeah, police harassin us |
Who’s vehicle is this? |
Is somethin that you’ve asked enough (for real) |
Uh, yeah, groupies for passin just |
We kick 'em out that candy door, they come right back to us (come right back to |
us, already) |
Uh, yeah, the golden plaques was up |
But I saw gold and that was old, so I got platinum plus (revenge) |
Uh, yeah, bring it if you bad enough |
But if you not get up outta here or back it up (back, back it up) |
Uh, Pimp C OG’s, so I’m a ballin by that bar in here, like he told me (that |
Sweet Jones) |
Uh, yeah, my nigga drinks on me |
I got some dough you can «Get Throwed» like the homie Bun B (throwed, throwed) |
Uh, yeah, they wanna be like me, I’m in that lot, I’m hoppin outta candy ESV’s |
Uh, yeah (yeah), she tried to kept on me |
That’s when I spot my trunk and «Swang» it like T-R-A-E (swang and I swang and |
I swang to the left) |
Uh, yeah, don’t act like y’all forgot |
That I’ve been makin Houston hits legit as Rap-A-Lot (what up International Red) |
Uh, yeah, let off the gas and stop |
If you still spinnin like them mix show DJ’s, add the box (what up home of the |
Boys) |
Uh, yeah, we watchin Magnavox, the car TV’s is big enough, boys in the back can |
watch (already) |
Uh, yeah, they want my cash to stop, but it won’t stop (it won’t stop) |
Cause I stay grindin 'til my casket drop (now run it back) |
Uh, yeah, they want my cash to stop, but it won’t stop (ch-cheah) |
Cause I stay grindin 'til my casket drop (Chamillitary mayne) |
They told me that talk is cheap, but broke hoes be sure talkin |
Used to be moonwalkin, now those be strobe walkin |
Broke hoes for sure callin, fo fos and fos crawlin |
Don’t play with my paper get a broke nose and oh darling |
Sure starvin, hungry for fetti like it’s fettuccine |
Got a problem, they see me, cause I’mma solve it, believe me |
Better be good at magic and bottle the baddest genie |
Had to holla at Jay, cause the neck just look better blingy |
Wanna be me, I’m just too real to be duplicated |
If you don’t know me, yeah you never met me, then you should hate it |
You can have an opinion, but I ain’t one to debate it |
If you ridin spinners, stop it, that nonsense is overrated |
Even if you on dubs, especially if you on hubs |
Them sixes is stationary, but somethin that you will love |
Shout out to the blue and cuz, shout out to my B and bloods |
We ain’t tryna be gangsta, for real, we just doin us |
Yeah we gettin that paper, if you say that we’re not |
It’s obvious you residin somewhere up under a rock |
Got 'em staring outside, they love how the trunk pop |
Like Block E-N-T is me, they be all on my Yung Joc |
Reppin them hard blocks, where them hustlers they all ready |
Your lady all hung up on you, now she callin your boy’s celly |
And that’s because y’all petty, my paper’s for sure heavy |
Don’t play cause that boy deadly with hands like that boy Freddie |