Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Chop Chop Feat. E.S.G. , by - H.S.E.Song from the album Hustlaz Stackin Endz, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопRelease date: 15.01.2003
Record label: Suckafree
Song language: English
Chop Chop Feat. E.S.G. |
| Hump, where you at baby |
| It’s that Boss Hogg huh |
| We got something to show y’all though |
| Chop em up |
| Get up all the ballas, make your way to the front |
| 84's on blaze, and have some bang in your trunk |
| Sip syrup or blazing skunk, overdose if you can |
| I ain’t saying I’m the man, but I’m your host with the plan |
| Instead of parlaying, I know these niggas feel what I’m saying |
| Cause all G’s from Houston Texas, now you know where I’m staying |
| Crawling low tip-toeing, in a five double O |
| B-E-N-Z, on dash reclined watching TV |
| Decided what game Playstation, and a Sega cd |
| Later on we hold and jumping, to the pretty Bentley |
| Did I mention in the steering wheel’s, a color TV |
| Tinted up blowing smoke, that’s the life of a G |
| Houston we have a problem, we ball too much |
| Threw some blades on my ride, and now we crawl too much |
| Threw some paint on the car, and now we drip too much |
| Bought a gallon of drank, and now we sip too much |
| Flip too much, wood grain we grip too much |
| You might as well, say that H.S.E. |
| pimp too much |
| Everybody wearing diamonds, so I wear baguettes |
| Everybody riding Benz, so I fly in a jet |
| I got a palace in Dallas, I got a train in Spain |
| Airplanes with candy wings, TV screens and thangs |
| Girls dancing in my mansion, playas still party too |
| I got ice in my mouth, but my name ain’t Cube |
| Acting bad in the slab, filling up at Texaco |
| Chop chop twist twist, on my way to Mexico |
| Videos and commercials, radio and rehearsals |
| In hover crafts I love to laugh, my style is so universal |
| Chop chop twist twist, rocks is on my wrist |
| I’m a billion dolla balla, with a million dolla kiss |
| Twist twist chop chop, watch the car hop |
| I represent my hood, and my worldwide block |
| Candy jet flying wet, elevator sky screamer |
| Late night Casanova, in a Rover or the Beamer |
| Slanging in the intersection, squat out with a smile |
| On the Nextel phone, my screens spin like crystal balls |
| You ain’t know, tell these niggas get me lean way |
| And if the FED’s is watching, we leaving trails on the freeway |
| Ain’t no instant replay, man we wetting niggas up |
| It’s so hard to lose my touch, but I’m betting niggas up |
| Stacking paper cutting papers, never known to catch vapors |
| Guard the states with city exits, one hundred feet skyscrapers |
| Chop chop twist twist, I got rocks on my wrist |
| Scratching haters off my list, and blow a million dolla kiss |
| H-Town H-Town bitch, city of dreams |
| And everything in H-Town, ain’t always what it seems |
| You might get jacked, for your blades and swangas |
| From MLK to the Tre, we keeping one in the chamber |
| H-Town H-Town bitch, city of dreams |
| Where we stay creased up and pieced up, top flighted codeine |
| Platinum bezeltine gleam, thugs wishing on a star |
| Stretched land Lex pop a Zanek, plus my stretches for tomorrow |
| Chop chop twist twist, forty Glock up in my wrist |
| Or my desert eagle resident evil, for these niggas that’s on my list |
| You got me pissed nigga, see you’s a bitch nigga |
| And at your concert you in dirt, and we won’t miss nigga |
| I guess you jealous of the Benzo, on Lorenzo’s |
| And your jacks and fools, keep bringing me the ends so |
| The Ghetto Twinz show, got dropped up on your head |
| Now meet my little friend, my Mack 10 with a infrared |
| I heard you hid your cars, locked your burglar bars |
| Don’t fuck with the E and Hump chump, cause we some murder stars |
| This calls for war why, for they kick in your belly |
| Chop chop with my machete, twist your neck cause we deadly |
| Jiggidy chop chop |
| Jiggidy twist twist |
| Million dolla ballas |
| Million dolla kiss — 2x |