2 MPH (feat. Bun B, Paul Wall, Mistah F.A.B.)

"Sippin, sippin on lean, sippin, sippin on bo'"

[Bun B]

Comin down grippin grain, diamonds up against the wood

Tops drop, blades chop, trunk is popped, I'm lookin good

Swangin down the boulevard, chunky deuce, the fifth is shinin

The queen is ridin shotgun and Finger's behind me

So never you mind me, I'm just hustling, grindin

My pockets are heavy and my diamonds are blindin

My pistols are loaded and cocked so know that I'm ready

I'll die for my family dog but I'll kill for my fair day

R.I.P. to my baby bro, UGK until

It ain't no stopping this movement, you lose on the real

Cause we keeping it trill, that's from ashes to dust

We got paper to make and fake nigga's asses to bust

If you down for your hood, and you bangin that Screw

Put your sets in the sky, cause this one is for you

Keep on keepin it true, fuck haters and again

Cause we don't play the game to say we play, we play to win

[Hook: Mistah F.A.B. X2]

Leanin to the side, you cain't speed through

Two miles per hour, so everybody sees you

Ridin by myself, with the pistol in the do'

"Sippin, sippin on lean, sippin, sippin on bo'"

[Mistah F.A.B.]

Candy on my big wheel, yeah man I'm still a kid

Twenty-six, rims same age as me, can you dig?

Ridin down the block, knockin pictures off your wall

Just showin off my grill made by Paul Wall

Alpine speakers in my grill on blast

Like my boys in Texas, hittin corner on them slabs

Seat laid back, you know how us pimps be

Keep your head up Bun B, rest in peace Pimp C

A mill' on mine rolled back to back and young millionaires we haven't scratched

Rhyme through the hood and habitat, candy paint look like some cabbage patch

Haters hot, they mad at that, Chamillionaire, how F.A.B. get that?

Two dimes in a car, how bad is that? King of the jungle, you an alley cat

Prince of the coast brought Cali back, just threw some D's on a Cadillac

Smoke so much, got cataracts, been rollin up for a matter of fact

F.A.B. get love where F.A.B. is at, from the Bay to the South where them slabs is at

Oakland down to Houston, only rollin with them savage cats

[Hook X2]

[Chamillionaire (Over Hook: Chamillitary mayne, yeah)]

It's gon' be, F-A-C, T to the Feds gon' mess with me

And F-A-B, when they see, mixtape money yes they pay me

Mugabe, Inspector G, bring 'em all cause they cain't get me

Ten vehicles parked in the yard, pick your choice, I'll get that key

Take that jet out to West, let's swang and get our swerve on

Hit that strip in my whip, gon' strip and let them sexy curves show

Vehicle sittin very low, pimp that caddy very slow

They like "Yeah, Chamillionaire, the realest I done heard holmes"

[Paul Wall]

I'm leanin to the side sideways, sittin crooked

My Jolly Ratchet paint got all of the people lookin

I'm beatin down the block, givin the streets an ass whoopin

Peep the way a player move, take notes lil young-un

I'm movin slow mo', leanin off a potent fo'

Pistol in my lap, plus another one in the side do'

You know I'm just a young hustler all about my doe

Gettin cake and stackin up that paper, I need mo'

[Hook X2]

"Sippin, sippin on lean, sippin, sippin on bo'"