[Verse 1 - Chamillionaire] Listen They say rapping's a waste of knowledge "Take ya ass to college" Now they broke ass call us Tryin to ask for dollars Sittin behing glass Impala's High class Impala's I make two cash deposits everytime I pass the closet If niggas lookin for the grands The grands can be spotted Chamillions the man He got it in his hand of wallet Ain't no If's, And's, about it "That man's the hottest" I accedently spent five grand Cause man, we ballas We don't shop at Family Dollars If your ice is fake? If you ask me for a verse I make my price inflate We still ghetto, lookin for some metal mics to break I'm still hangin around a hood, like a liscense plate I'm not cappin, cause trust me You'll know when I'm cappin When I pull out that gat And you hear that thang click-clackin You hear what that boy said? Don't be a hard head Save me some left overs im through with some raw bread
[Chorus: Chamillionaire/Paul Wall] Let's open, the garage and pull, Them cars out (Why?) Show em how boys in the dirty south shiiiiiiiine (Money is on your mind, chasin them dollar signs Get off of youe behind and go Grind) Yeaaaaah there's no time, to sleep - we hustle and grind, all the time Because money's always on our miiiiiiiind (Chasin them dollar signs, you sayin you wanna shine? Then get up off of your behind and go Grind) Yeaaaaah
[Verse 2 - Paul Wall] They say stuntin's a waste of money "Man, invest it in stocks" Now they homeless and out of work Ever since Enron flopped Have a hustle for every season That's the Babeoulous way Mo money underneath my mattress Then you have in your safe When money slow up? Make a different hustle blow up Alotta cats older then me, but they ain't never grow up Boys hit a couple of licks, buy some kicks and they quit I ain't hustlin for a fifth, I'm on the grind to get rich I ain't gone lie, I got lazy making fifty a week But when that fifty sunk to ten I woke up out of my sleep I don't compete with other ballers I inspire myself Self-Emplyed, I could write a check And hire myself I admire myself, with a set of Slabs, salute All courtisey of my underground, mass of loot It don't matter what it cost, just grab some loot I'll earn it back before your class is through It's goin down
[Chorus: Chamillionaire/Paul Wall]
[Verse 3 - Chamillionaire] Listen They say our album just dropped And we ain't proved a thing Look at the Sound Scan scannin Tell us who's the King Okay, if we don't hit Top 100 on Billboards We still gone feel joy, 50 hundreds in Bills boy We Runnin Houston streets, so you can say we RoadRunners You better hide your deer, like we was Doe Hunters Never made doe from a dealer, I'm no dope runna But I intercept chips like a kick from a slow punta HUT ONE! HUT TWO! - We comin' through, what it do? Direspecting that Houston, Texas Underground? What a fool It's okay if you DeeJay's don't give us Radio play We tell the streets to go get our CD today, they obey Underground CD sella, Hundred Thousand or betta But I'm not in this game to get a Grammy letta or metal Just tryin to make alot of chedda, Mirror Mirror on the wall Can you tell us who really ball? "Chamillion and Paul Wall"