Chamillionaire – I'm Da King Lyrics

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(Woman: "Mixtape Messiah".......Da King is here nigga!)

(T.I. Insert)
Ay what these other niggas talkin', I don't believe that shit
I'm the King cuz I said it and I mean that shit
Ay I'm the king cuz I said it, I'm the king cuz I said it
I'm the king cuz I said it and I mean that shit
Ay what these other niggas talkin', I don't believe that shit
I'm the King cuz I said it and I mean that shit
Ay what's so special bout him, he ain't all that, shit
I set the city on fire and you seen that shit


[Chamillionaire]
Stupid you runnin' around like the Messiah isn't a force
Then tell me how did my first album even get on The Source
I was sittin' next to Pimpin' Ken, (was he pimpin'?), of course
But I was thinkin' bout gettin' with Trina and tryna pimp me a Porsche
I can't hand a nigga the rap game now cuz I'm usin' it
Ain't a underground rapper gon' have it til' I through with it
I don't burn bridges (nah), other rappers 'll ruin it
I just jump over the bridge and pimp-slap em' for doin' it
I'mma embarass ya so bad, that ya label gon' say they know ya
You's a good ass promoter, but the fat lady say it's over
Mixtape Messiah 2 is the bullet I'm savin' for ya
And I can pop trunk pumps on ya coffin' and raise it for ya (Weww!)
And I ain't the only person who sick of ya voice
I kill a rapper with one verse and the real niggas rejoice
But I was forced (do you feel any remorse?) of course
That's why I'mma show up at his funeral and pop trunk on his corpse

(T.I. Insert)

[Chamillionaire]
Yeah, you'll never get on my level, no need to go get a ladder
You better run when I come like a pitcher that hit the batter
(You Paid-N-Full?), nah, but I got alot of respect for Hatta
Even though niggas be ignorin' my questions bout business matters
Cat tell me to call Hatta, Madd Hatta said call Cat
I call niggas about some business, and I never get a call back
I just wanted my songs back, but they act like I'm on crack
To drop another Cham' & Paul, we ain't even on contract
Part of the game is that, I keep gettin' reminded daily
Labels ahead 'll screw you, that's the business side of it baby

Nigga was grindin' daily, but suspicions was kinda crazy
I had to pretend like I was broke, just to get Paid In Full to pay me
It's crazy, for the label with the reputation for actin' a ass
Like Rap-A-Lot, what's the label that was always on time with cash
Gave em' my price, they didn't try to make me go down a tag
So for J.P., Tom, Rad, and Chief, it's done they ain't gotta ask
Ain't a nigga who can persuade me to go back to House
So I can hear Dike Jones tell me he got platinum in his mouth

That nigga soft, he ain't never move no crack in the South
Was in packagin' soft, and he said he stack more stacks then the Boss

Sure you do, I hope that's not a story they told to you
You need to pimp-slap that sick pup and maker who controllin' you
You ain't runnin' NOTHIN'!, only you would go vote for you
Cuz my pockets got more G's, then a G-Unit quotable
G-G-G-G-G-G-Geez,
you's a pee-on please
Why is he here somebody please, tell this pee-on leave
Air-condition on my wrist, I stay with freon sleeves
Ya stay on D, like defenders durin' three-on-three's
My momma moved out the hood to a 5 bedroom home
Rasaq moved off DeSoto and got a lil' crib of his own
Then I bought a Ninja bike and another whip on chrome
My money long, I stand on top of the world and spit on Jones
Your album, so what we heard you was comin' soon
You did a song with Alicia Keys, or maybe you said it was Loon
I can fit your crib inside my truck, and I'd still have leg-room
Then I can park that whole truck inside my Master Bedroom

Saw ya DVD you talkin' that ridiculous noise
Sister got kids with baby cribs bigger then yours
Danny DeVito duckin' down couldn't even fit through your doors
You gotta be Kiddin' me BOY!, is you Kiddin' you SURE! (SURE!)

(T.I. Insert)

(Voice Mails left on Chamillionaire's Hotline)

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