(feat. Killer Mike, Pastor Troy)

[Intro]
Gun cocking, shots fired.

[Chamillionaire]
The sound of revenge, haha.
Woo, tell em what it is mayne (tell em what it is).

[Pastor Troy]
Welcome to the New World Order.
Atlanta, Georgia.

[Chamillionaire]
Houston, Texas, he already know.

[Pastor Troy]
The south is takin over.

[Chorus x2 - Chamillionaire]
Just look over your shoulder (shoulder)
Let me see who just showed up (showed up)
It´s the southern takeover (its over)
You betta tell em I got dreams to stand on top, try and stop (pop pop pop)

[Killer Mike]
It´s the mister fo fifth told em
Cookin coke with baking soda
Dub roller, pro smoker
Wood gripper, pistol whipper.
Muck a nigga if he figure
F**kin with my figures.
Makes him richer, he should know.
Instead, it´ll make him better than a money f**kin with my money.
Get yo money stacked right outta sunday school
On a bright and sunny sunday.
This ain´t funny.
I ain´t jokin bout my coke and package come up shorter.
Might kidnap yo wife and daughter.
Bury them down deep in Georgia.
No D.A.s a f**kin lawyer prosecutin witnesses.
We excutin, start the shootin, start the lukin,
Start the violence, start a riot.
Get this motherfucker crunker, crunk as you can get it.
Pass that dro, I´m a hit it.
Outta line, we gon spit it,
spit it vivid, cause i live it.
You don´t walk it, you just talk it.
Pistol totin, and a loadin.
That´s how smokin got this dope
And i aint hopin, steady slangin
Right on yo trappa block.
Take your track, set up shop.
Try and stop (pop pop pop).

[Chorus]

[Chamillionaire]
Hey hey, this ain´t about an image.
This ain´t about a gimmick.
P**sys stand to the side.
Now the game got a menace.
I damn seen a city that I think is not the realest.
We bummin on his ass.
He ain´t finishin his sentence.
I only got a minute.
I feelin about a digit.
You lookin at a nigga like I ain´t about to get it.
I´m lookin at the money like I ain´t about to finish.
You need to mind your business.
If you ain´t about your business.
I´m a H-town soldier.
I´m a come with the trunk up yeah I´m a gon remind ya.
If you ain´t gettin it you shoulda told ya father.
Nigga chamillionaire never show no problems.
You don´t want no problem (problem).
Get em g´ed shoulda let the fo fo remind em.
Ya you tip on the ride em.
I be ridin fo fos on the door beside em.
6´ 6" tall lookin like he a center.
10 tatoos lookin like he a killa.
Skinny ass niggas don´t fight with a nigga.
Pull out a billfold, put a price on a nigga.
I have this camp fo put a knife in a nigga.
From the car to his pocket then right in your liver.
Was a big boy that put a slice in the middle.
Ya head fast think you hold a mike with the killa.
Don´t mess with the south homie, thats a dream,
Hallucinate or imagining so.
Double XL with the gats I mean,
Keep somethin ready to blow in the magazine.
And you know that southern cash is mean.
Franklins frown for me when I stash my cream.
Pull up in candy paint that match my green.
Killer, Pastor, and Koopa are the master machine.

[Chorus]

[Pastor Troy]
Y´all know me, it´s PT.
Well I hunt and all of that,
Black on black, with black tip.
I can´t help but represent.
I´m not content, I want more.
Who the f**k you take me for?
Studio rappers not the fortay.
I drop my top and bust my AK.
No mo play, nigga NGA.
Yeah, that´s a classic.
Ridin in the classic.
Tote a mill, and I blast em.
Send em to the casket.
Send em to the morgue.
Slap me a nigga cause i´m motherf**kin bored.
Chamillionaire, I camoflouge in my surrounding.
Get my desert E´s and get to motherf**kin poundin.
Up and down the streets,
Throwin heat, out the driver´s seat,
Ridin to the beat,
Tell them nigga just lay weak.

[Chorus x2]