Lyrics Chamillionaire – Creepin’ (Solo)
Text:
Venom
Chorus:
In the streets I’m peepin game
I cant trust you, no no
I stay on the low low
Say they really really fake
Cant mess wit you no more
Closest people to you hate
So I be rolling solo
I’m creeping on the low low
Creepin on the low low
Creepin on the low low
I be rolling, I be rolling solo
I’m creeping on the low
Creepin on the low low
Creepin on the low low
I be rolling, I be rolling solo
I’m creeping on the low
More money yeah more problems
What biggy said it look like it true
Used to be my homeboy
But now I’m payed so they tryna sue
My garage got jaguars
My garage look like a zoo
Middle finger up for the haters
Hope the hater here isn’t you
Super cool, that’s real cool
You can feel like you gotta friend
But I ain’t trusting my money counter
You saw the forbes (yeah)
I’m suspicious
Thinking everybody wanna take my riches
Cant take my money out my account
Cos my bank teller get motion sickness
Back and forth, b-back and forth
From in the streets or right back in court
Candy car built like a tank
And my crib built like a fort
Lets go to war
I ain’t George bush
I promise ya’ll I’m gonna be prepared
Cos I ain’t trusting my weapon either
And that’s the reason I keep a spare
Chorus
I ain’t hanging with none of ya’ll
OutKast like three thou
Win the Grammy thing
Guard the family
And all of you gonna leave out
If you don’t like it then peace out
Look around and I see doubt
I been known to get to the presidents
Like barack is on speed dial
Yeah its all about me now
Don’t want ya and don’t need ya
You don’t grind and get to the money
And you ain’t hungry I wont feed ya
I ain’t hanging with no hater
No faker
No diva
I knew it big and they say they did
And tryna take my credit like stole visa
If its lonely at the top (top)
Id rather be alone
Cos the closest people to ya
The ones who gonna do ya wrong
Backstabbing me for a broad
I promise that I will lose no sleep
Cos jenny crank can be your freak
But my bank account gonna stay obese
Chorus
Ludacris
I be, creeping lower than low
Light another blunt I’m smoking the dro
Choking, locking, never provoke him
And a drunk will get popped and ill open the do
Lungs full of smoke
That means slower than slow
Feel like I’m trapped and theres nowhere to go
So i, just pull out the bazooka (blah)
Put a fucking hole in the flo’
Luda! I’m so dope with the flow
Trunk fulla speakers, pocket fulla ??
How much would a wood chuck chuck
If a wood chuck could chuck wood
Gripping on the wheel
Turn it turn it
Blow another stack
I earned it earned it
Blow another ??
Pull another tram
Light another blunt
Burn it burn it
Flame it up
Hear my flow, I changed it up
Everybody grab your gats
And hold em, load, sock em, lock em, cock em
And aim it up
Bang it up
Off in the sky
Catch me rolling off in the ride
26 inches
Leave em defenceless
45 always tucked in the side
Open your eyes
See me cruising
Cos I keep winning and these boys keep losing
Plus I’m, the pimp of the year
Players is hating and hos is choosing
Look at all the hos you losing
Then look at all the game I got
And you can catch me creeping on the low low
Luda riding solo, beating the block!
Chorus