![State to State [Srewed and Chopped] - Paul Wall, Freeway](https://cdn.muztext.com/i/3284759247463925347.jpg)
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song State to State [Srewed and Chopped], artist - Paul Wall. Date of issue: 18.07.2005
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
State to State [Srewed and Chopped] |
| And we coming with the bump bump buuum! |
| Early! |
| Yeah! |
| Uh! |
| It’s The Roc, Swishahouse and we Dumping on y’all hating ass niggas |
| And we hit yall with the Bump Bump buuum |
| Early! |
| Uh! |
| Yeah! |
| Uh! |
| Y’all better keep your weapons close |
| It’s Philly and Paul Wall |
| And this is the way we ball bring the raw |
| To your city got them semis |
| If you really want war |
| We gon bring it to your doorstep |
| Vests and them hoodies |
| And we pop pop pop |
| Through your body |
| Put the rest in your fitted |
| And this is the way you fall to the ground |
| An’you shaking nigga |
| State prop cock game and we gun a hater down |
| And we take a hater’s pounds |
| And we sell a hater’s bricks |
| And we the main reason why they chicks is not around |
| Somebody tell them that they’re rockin’Houston |
| Swishahouse got that knockin’Houston we come and lock shit down |
| Real niggas stand up point em we gon gun 'em haters down |
| come around you hear that… |
| And all my real bitches step up come to wipe a player down |
| smoke a pound with him |
| Real niggas step up we gon gun 'em haters down come around |
| you hear that… |
| And all my real bitches step up come to wipe a player down |
| smoke a pound with him |
| I hear these haters talking seem like they’re getting louder |
| These sweet cupcakes softer than some clam chowder |
| I’m from the city to proudly serve crack rocks? |
| For twenty dollars get you higher than an astronaut |
| I keep a Glock in my state prop jeans |
| Floating on cloud nine goin’off codiene |
| I chuck a deuce to a hater |
| I’m on a mission for paper |
| I got Lil’Hawk with me serving dope fiends like a waiter |
| I’m on the south B with my boy do you |
| Big bank take little bank baby tell me what it do These boys talking loud but they ain’t saying a thang |
| But Paul Wall and Freeway will make 'em sang |
| It’s the Swishahouse state prop chain gang |
| .45 cal big Glock bang bang |
| I keep the tupperware tucked in my underwear |
| Rain down thunder on these suckers make the clutter clear |
| Let’s get one thing clear I run with grizzly bears |
| Bite you in your back and make you straighten out your chest hair |
| I’m 100 baby no time for playing games |
| I got a garden full of carats hanging in my chain |
| I keep a player bought my paper fuck a hater |
| Cause the real turn fake switching over like a crossfader |
| I’m squashing chatter climbing up the ladder |
| Cause my goal is to make my pockets fatter baby Paul Wall |