Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Mixtape Murder, artist - Chamillionaire. Album song Mixtape Messiah 6, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 12.01.2009
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: chamillitary
Song language: English
Mixtape Murder |
Uh, mixtape murderer |
Talkn bout murder |
Yeah, they say they need part 6 but look at how i light up the city |
It’s that boy Chamilli, many say that they don’t feel me |
But they don’t want it really, nothin gon move but the money |
You know I know the drilly, my reality be showin like Flava Flav or Diddy |
She got some back and some tittes, and man it’s such a pity |
She think I give her my hustle just cuz the fact she pretty |
Really busy, chasin scrillies and countin all my millies |
I’m really all about scrilly, and I mean that sincerely |
Just like that VIC single, the game is gettin silly |
But so much cheese is stackin like sandwiches in philly |
Runnin around for the millies, I think I’m gettin dizzy |
I’m notorious at doin it bigger like I’m Biggie |
Join my fan club, you a hater, bring some backup |
Let my lac up, and hit the switch and it ill back up |
They can’t stand em, make Bill O’reilly have a tantrum |
Bet the grands come and if I’m on it, it’s an anthem |
Get the grand son and give a million to my grandson |
Yeah we have fun, but told the chick that she can have none |
I heard Plies say that he will never buy a Phantom |
I make 28's fit on the ish, you better ask em |
I attatch em, I love the dolla’s I romance em |
I just cash em, no homo but my money handsome |
An assassin, be killin the mic with a passion |
I just smash em, then I head right back to my mansion |
They just actin, but real is my only reaction |
Shoes on my whip, that’s where haters jack their fashion |
Swagga jackin, i’m swagga’d up you swagga-lackin |
Swagga pass em, my swagga on inspite of lappin |
Tell em don’t listen, if you hate the way my flow is flippin |
Still tippin, wheels glisten, my vouge’s are swang and clickin |
Brain n bullet equals pain, who wanna do addition? |
Pop the clip in, get to trippin, you thinkin that I’m slippin |
Believa, always an over achiever |
Take a breather, your paper little just like ceaser |
Have a seat bra, I make that hater have a seizure |
When they see the number of coats that’s on my Beamer |
Lift the dough up and on her feet is where I leave her |
Then I proceed to gettin my dough up like a Keebla |
I don’t need her, be Livin Single like Kadeeja |
I won’t even go send a cab to go retrieve her |
Hustle been deadly before Fred ever met Betty |
Spree-wellin like Latrelly on Spinners and Perellis |
That was back before Nelly was ever seen singin on the telly |
I been grindin gettin feti, underground Makavelli |
My dictionary is missin, so what is competition? |
Think he dissin, he ain’t likin how much my pinky glisten |
I ain’t trippin I ain’t missin, that diamond let it glisten |
Pop my trunk up and the sign is readin, I’m gon fishin |