Chynalude Lyrics - Lil Jon And The Eastside Boyz

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[Lil Bo - Talking]
Aww yeah ya know it was real hanging out wit y'all motherfuckers
On this here album right
But this xxxxxxxxxxxx bout over and uh
Time for me to get the hell on
Been in the studio, the motherfucking sun coming up
In this bitch, motherfucker, been in this motherfucking studio
Working hard on this motherfucking album
{*Background vocals from Lil' Jon & Big Sam come in*}
What up B-leech, goddamn Sleet as usual in the motherfucking studio
Kit, all the boys higher den a motherfucker
We got Tim over there xxxxxxx up shit
Ha, ha, but like I said time to get up out this album knowhaimsayin
Hope y'all enjoyed this motherfucker
It was a lot of hard work putting this xxxxx together
Go look out for them, LG's, my girl Chyna Whyte
And who knows what else to motherfucking expect
From the motherfucking BME ya little Biatch

(Chorus) x2
[Chyna Whyte]
It's one time for my soldiers on the front line
Strapped with AKs, and car bombs
With K-nine blood lines
It's one time for my killers on the front line
Strapped P-nines and semi-autos
Actin like it's no tomorrow

[Chyna Whyte]
To survive in this world makes me a soldier
Cause I wear Reeboks, nigga why, cause they colder
Every 3 years I battle my fans thug years
Now I shed tears, nigga, I ain't happy here
Like pot, so I blow herb thinking it'll stop the pain
When I come down I'll still be left with the strain
So I stay high so my eyes can stay dry
And I don't give a xxxx why
Nigga I was born to die
In the club head tight off of gin and kiwi
Camouflage and dimes so the niggas can't see me
Tellin em my name Le-Le or Lisa
Breaking them walls the Visa 9-millimeter
Sha-sha click, xxxx it, rock it
Nothing but the Reeboks and poppin
Nuttin but motherfucking nines and
Bump, bump, you be running like Forrest Gump
Knock you on yo xxx like Humpty Dump
Chyna Whyte leaves niggas in a slump, serial
Deadly like disease venereal
Game as be RD imperial
Pumpin through your stereo, nigga what you know
Ain't no log when that fo'-fo'
Ejaculate up in your fo' door
Bitch die slow, lyrical calico
Purple tablets I flow
None want war, Gambino
Emptyin clips, I rips
Motevl I flips
Words comin off the lips like Teflon's hips
IT'S ONE TIME!

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