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the haters keep askin - swishahouse lyrics

[intro]
n*gga

[chorus]
them haters be askin’ if the swishahouse really grippin’ wood wheels
baby it ain’t even no need for us to lie
tw*nkie, sittin’ high, screens fallin’ up out the sky
them groupies be askin’, “is the ice in ya gold real?”
stupid question ain’t no need for me to reply
girl i’m a playa you can’t even deny

[verse 1]
microphone check man i’m bouts to wreck
got ice on my pinky got ice my neck
i just flew across the country in a concorde jet
came straight to the club and valeted my ‘vette
excuse me sir, i wanna buy the bar
which one of you hoes done keyed up my car?
want me a dyk* hoe so i can ménage à trois
you wanna know how it feel to f*ck a superstar?
now you might catch me ridin’ in the yukon
blowin’ a sweet, eatin’ a fig newton
boys talkin’ down they must tootin’
i’m the reason they brought football back to houston
i’m thinkin’ ’bout a house party gettin’ [?]
three*wheeled the ship channel and my drank done spilled
nominated for a grammy for workin’ the wood wheel
no more handle bars and workin’ with x pills
the compaq center gon’ be my resident and imma ride and get blown and chill with the president
i’m thinkin’ ’bout bringin’ back, uhh, the chuck taylor
start me a campaign archie runnin’ for the mayor
[chorus]
them haters be askin’ if the swishahouse really grippin’ wood wheels
baby it ain’t even no need for us to lie
tw*nkie, sittin’ high, screens fallin’ up out the sky
them groupies be askin’, “is the ice in ya gold real?”
stupid question ain’t no need for me to reply
girl i’m a playa you can’t even deny

[verse 2]
won’t you get back
’cause lil’ ron’s comin’ through in a drop that’s blue and see it’s not a whodo
i love to make [?] poor hoes by the pile
leave stains for miles and stand by too tall
maintain the ball at a very young age
sixteen gettin’ paid with more chips than lays
and no minimum wage it’s just checks by the g
who takes the keys and makin’ fraud n*ggas freeze
one minute ‘fore i leave i’m goin’ platinum or better
got my groove from stella
now i make a lot of cheddar
got the first ones [?] for the rhymes i’m quotin’
you see the mic got broke because i’m gone off dope
a fat white envelope or a flat big check
guaranteed to wreck i’m ’bout to take my respect
roll through is what i said i ain’t gon’ say it no more
swishahouse to the door pullin’ your main hoe
takin’ up the dance floor ’cause we wreckin’ the show
fold it down movin’ slow imma stay a playa’ [?]
from homestead to tokyo i’m in somethin’ lookin’ good
in a big fleetwood throwin’ up my hood
on the north of h*town is where i put it down
also where i grind keepin’ money on my mind
makin’ n*ggas get in line ’cause i’m the sarge
screens on in the gator watchin’ charles in charge
i ain’t trippin’ ’cause everything gettin’ hard
that’s why i live everyday life with pause, n*gga what!
[chorus]
them haters be askin’ if the swishahouse really grippin’ wood wheels
baby it ain’t even no need for us to lie
tw*nkie, sittin’ high, screens fallin’ up out the sky (you already know)
(it’s the supa king koopa)
them groupies be askin’, “is the ice in ya gold real?”
stupid question ain’t no need for me to reply
girl i’m a playa you can’t even deny

[verse 3]
listen to what the supa king k double o*p*a say
if i say “hey, can i get ya number?” she say okay
you ask for her number and she be like “no way”
got the boots sayin’ “what it do” instead of “woah hey”
everybody that thinks that the chamillion can’t rap
i couldn’t make a whack rap if my name was j*mac
haha, i’m just jokin’ mac i take that back but i just gave you a shoutout n*gga, you can’t hate that
big tw*nkie inch [?] car screener
got hoes sayin’ “whoop” pull over like trina
i’m not a drank leaner ’cause i’d rather sip zima
yellow broad named tina take my drawers to the cleaners
i’m above you, you under me
like an umbrella
don’t even try to front like your game is much better
if she yellow as the letters on my iceberg sweater then you better not let her leave home ’cause i’ll get her
i’m thugged out forever, weak? i think not
i’m as throwed as rock in a shot slingshot
knock*knock, who is it? none of your d*mn business
it’s the color changing lizard so shut up until he’s finished
n*gga i roll chrome and i pull up at your home
ice lookin’ like i stuck my finger in a snow cone
when it comes to this rap you can’t do me no harm
i would still be calm with a bomb in my palms
and a big stick of dynamite strapped to my arm
three ws dot get off my d*ck dot com
i don’t wear versace ’cause i ain’t trynna be cute
i gave my lawyer the boot ’cause he tried to put me in a suit
get mixed with big clique and i’m throwed like al golden
tw*nkie inch rollin’ sean john on my clothin’
at u of h downtown every semester
might pop up into trouble with blind sighted lester, n*gga
knick knack paddy whack hold up man, matter fact i almost forgot to give a shoutout to the alley cat
my n*gga a dee, a lee, and slim t
fool me, and ron c and big t*i*m*e
got to pour some liquor out for them boys up on the south
no need to spell it out ’cause y’all know what i’m talkin’ ’bout
baby
[verse 4]
n*ggas be lookin’ for my lac on them tw*nks
but i be on the north blowin’ k!ll sippin’ drank
diamonds cut from my paint blingin’ in the [?] tank
makin’ haters walk the plank i would stop ballin’ but i can’t
i’m the gold type baby high as a kite
with a funny colored sprite with a clique that’ll bite
when is she gonna admit it?
you other kids can’t get with it
it’s like [?]
i go nah i probably did it
i’ve been known to go get it
fly a ship known to spit it
go home and try a 10 ’cause you cannot f*ck with it
imma steal the show when i enter the door
guess jeans and polo with a massive .44
[?] comin’ through slow
with a chain hangin’ down to my c*ck
what’s wrong with me is it ’cause i’m top notch?
ridin’ chrome on your block makin’ little kids watch
if i raised up my trunk i would ruin they hopscotch
i could flip [?] with them [?]
what’s up jamie and my partner billy?
i might be on [?] with my [?] in the pool hall
i ain’t mad at y’all

- swishahouse lyrics

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