2 Mph Lyrics - Mixtape Messiah 4 - Chamillionaire

"Sippin, sippin on lean, sippin, sippin on bo'" 

[Bun B] 

Comin down grippin grain, diamonds up against the wood 

Tops drop, blades chop, trunk is popped, I'm lookin good 

Swangin down the boulevard, chunky deuce, the fifth is shinin 

The queen is ridin shotgun and Finger's behind me 

So never you mind me, I'm just hustling, grindin 

My pockets are heavy and my diamonds are blindin 

My pistols are loaded and cocked so know that I'm ready 

I'll die for my family dog but I'll kill for my fair day 

R.I.P. to my baby bro, UGK until 

It ain't no stopping this movement, you lose on the real 

Cause we keeping it trill, that's from ashes to dust 

We got paper to make and fake nigga's asses to bust 

If you down for your hood, and you bangin that Screw 

Put your sets in the sky, cause this one is for you 

Keep on keepin it true, fuck haters and again 

Cause we don't play the game to say we play, we play to win 

[Hook: Mistah F.A.B. X2] 

Leanin to the side, you cain't speed through 

Two miles per hour, so everybody sees you 

Ridin by myself, with the pistol in the do' 

"Sippin, sippin on lean, sippin, sippin on bo'" 

[Mistah F.A.B.] 

Candy on my big wheel, yeah man I'm still a kid 

Twenty-six, rims same age as me, can you dig? 

Ridin down the block, knockin pictures off your wall 

Just showin off my grill made by Paul Wall 

Alpine speakers in my grill on blast 

Like my boys in Texas, hittin corner on them slabs 

Seat laid back, you know how us pimps be 

Keep your head up Bun B, rest in peace Pimp C 

A mill' on mine rolled back to back and young millionaires we haven't scratched 

Rhyme through the hood and habitat, candy paint look like some cabbage patch 

Haters hot, they mad at that, Chamillionaire, how F.A.B. get that? 

Two dimes in a car, how bad is that? King of the jungle, you an alley cat 

Prince of the coast brought Cali back, just threw some D's on a Cadillac 

Smoke so much, got cataracts, been rollin up for a matter of fact 

F.A.B. get love where F.A.B. is at, from the Bay to the South where them slabs is at 

Oakland down to Houston, only rollin with them savage cats 

[Hook X2] 

[Chamillionaire (Over Hook: Chamillitary mayne, yeah)] 

It's gon' be, F-A-C, T to the Feds gon' mess with me 

And F-A-B, when they see, mixtape money yes they pay me 

Mugabe, Inspector G, bring 'em all cause they cain't get me 

Ten vehicles parked in the yard, pick your choice, I'll get that key 

Take that jet out to West, let's swang and get our swerve on 

Hit that strip in my whip, gon' strip and let them sexy curves show 

Vehicle sittin very low, pimp that caddy very slow 

They like "Yeah, Chamillionaire, the realest I done heard holmes" 

[Paul Wall] 

I'm leanin to the side sideways, sittin crooked 

My Jolly Ratchet paint got all of the people lookin 

I'm beatin down the block, givin the streets an ass whoopin 

Peep the way a player move, take notes lil young-un 

I'm movin slow mo', leanin off a potent fo' 

Pistol in my lap, plus another one in the side do' 

You know I'm just a young hustler all about my doe 

Gettin cake and stackin up that paper, I need mo' 

[Hook X2] 

"Sippin, sippin on lean, sippin, sippin on bo'"