Stack Yo Chips (Clean Version) Lyrics
| Song | Stack Yo Chips (Clean Version) |
| Artist | Mystikal |
| Album | Ghetto Fabulous |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Abbatiello, C-Murders ... | |
| Stack yo chips, get yo paper | |
| Ball til you fall, young nigga fuck the haters | |
| Stack yo chips, get yo paper | |
| Ball til you fall, young nigga fuck the haters | |
| Stack yo chips, get yo paper | |
| Ball til you fall, young nigga fuck the haters | |
| Stack yo chips, get yo paper | |
| Ball til you fall, young nigga fuck the haters | |
| I'm movin' too fast, doing to much for these niggas | |
| Hum broI get paid to leave the house sideways | |
| Bitch stickin' out, what | |
| I can take it without quessn' | |
| You the mutha fuckin' coward | |
| And I'm the big bad wolf nigga | |
| And I'm coming to devoiour | |
| Aint nothin' better than money | |
| Sex and the power | |
| Oh, how I love to be on top of the power? | |
| FuckI got it to go wit it, clownish | |
| Out that back cuttin' up telly to telly bouncn' | |
| I got five women, four cars | |
| Three homes and two apartments | |
| A Rolex, ten leather jackets, | |
| And twenty pair of | |
| Michael Jordans | |
| All in it, front and back wheels spinnin' | |
| I might not bid to you | |
| But I'm the shit in the city | |
| Street things, represent the real no lim | |
| Razor sharp rhymes penatrating you skin | |
| The way I drop | |
| Bitch, gotta feel them | |
| I'm that close | |
| Try to stop me from gettn' it | |
| Stack yo chips, get yo paper | |
| Ball til you fall, young nigga fuck the haters | |
| Stack yo chips, get yo paper | |
| Ball til you fall, young nigga fuck the haters | |
| Stack yo chips, get yo paper | |
| Ball til you fall, young nigga fuck the haters | |
| Stack yo chips, get yo paper | |
| Ball til you fall, young nigga fuck the haters | |
| I make a million dollar dream become reality without a doubt | |
| I get paid for every rhyme coming out my mouth | |
| And gangsta rap pays the bills so | |
| I represent it | |
| And who we be | |
| Some soldiers down that no limit | |
| My young thugs love to get high off of my lyrics | |
| I have em' tweakn' | |
| Possessed like an evil spirit | |
| We on the rise | |
| But labeled as them bad guys | |
| We're family tied | |
| And run like the enterprize | |
| Fool is you legal | |
| But bugs is segal | |
| This aint no sequil | |
| You damn sure not my equal | |
| And playa haters don't last too long | |
| Axe a million motherfuckers with my disc | |
| Sittin' at they home | |
| My edvasaries is slowly being put to death | |
| I catch 'em gaspin' | |
| And trying to breathe | |
| They last breath | |
| I mean you reaching for the stars | |
| But you cant grip | |
| I told you, get yo paper nigga | |
| Stack yo chips | |
| Stack yo chips, get yo paper | |
| Ball til you fall, young nigga fuck the haters | |
| Stack yo chips, get yo paper | |
| Ball til you fall, young nigga fuck the haters | |
| Stack yo chips, get yo paper | |
| Ball til you fall, young nigga fuck the haters | |
| Stack yo chips, get yo paper | |
| Ball til you fall, young nigga fuck the haters |
| zuo ci : Abbatiello, CMurders ... | |
| Stack yo chips, get yo paper | |
| Ball til you fall, young nigga fuck the haters | |
| Stack yo chips, get yo paper | |
| Ball til you fall, young nigga fuck the haters | |
| Stack yo chips, get yo paper | |
| Ball til you fall, young nigga fuck the haters | |
| Stack yo chips, get yo paper | |
| Ball til you fall, young nigga fuck the haters | |
| I' m movin' too fast, doing to much for these niggas | |
| Hum broI get paid to leave the house sideways | |
| Bitch stickin' out, what | |
| I can take it without quessn' | |
| You the mutha fuckin' coward | |
| And I' m the big bad wolf nigga | |
| And I' m coming to devoiour | |
| Aint nothin' better than money | |
| Sex and the power | |
| Oh, how I love to be on top of the power? | |
| FuckI got it to go wit it, clownish | |
| Out that back cuttin' up telly to telly bouncn' | |
| I got five women, four cars | |
| Three homes and two apartments | |
| A Rolex, ten leather jackets, | |
| And twenty pair of | |
| Michael Jordans | |
| All in it, front and back wheels spinnin' | |
| I might not bid to you | |
| But I' m the shit in the city | |
| Street things, represent the real no lim | |
| Razor sharp rhymes penatrating you skin | |
| The way I drop | |
| Bitch, gotta feel them | |
| I' m that close | |
| Try to stop me from gettn' it | |
| Stack yo chips, get yo paper | |
| Ball til you fall, young nigga fuck the haters | |
| Stack yo chips, get yo paper | |
| Ball til you fall, young nigga fuck the haters | |
| Stack yo chips, get yo paper | |
| Ball til you fall, young nigga fuck the haters | |
| Stack yo chips, get yo paper | |
| Ball til you fall, young nigga fuck the haters | |
| I make a million dollar dream become reality without a doubt | |
| I get paid for every rhyme coming out my mouth | |
| And gangsta rap pays the bills so | |
| I represent it | |
| And who we be | |
| Some soldiers down that no limit | |
| My young thugs love to get high off of my lyrics | |
| I have em' tweakn' | |
| Possessed like an evil spirit | |
| We on the rise | |
| But labeled as them bad guys | |
| We' re family tied | |
| And run like the enterprize | |
| Fool is you legal | |
| But bugs is segal | |
| This aint no sequil | |
| You damn sure not my equal | |
| And playa haters don' t last too long | |
| Axe a million motherfuckers with my disc | |
| Sittin' at they home | |
| My edvasaries is slowly being put to death | |
| I catch ' em gaspin' | |
| And trying to breathe | |
| They last breath | |
| I mean you reaching for the stars | |
| But you cant grip | |
| I told you, get yo paper nigga | |
| Stack yo chips | |
| Stack yo chips, get yo paper | |
| Ball til you fall, young nigga fuck the haters | |
| Stack yo chips, get yo paper | |
| Ball til you fall, young nigga fuck the haters | |
| Stack yo chips, get yo paper | |
| Ball til you fall, young nigga fuck the haters | |
| Stack yo chips, get yo paper | |
| Ball til you fall, young nigga fuck the haters |
| zuò cí : Abbatiello, CMurders ... | |
| Stack yo chips, get yo paper | |
| Ball til you fall, young nigga fuck the haters | |
| Stack yo chips, get yo paper | |
| Ball til you fall, young nigga fuck the haters | |
| Stack yo chips, get yo paper | |
| Ball til you fall, young nigga fuck the haters | |
| Stack yo chips, get yo paper | |
| Ball til you fall, young nigga fuck the haters | |
| I' m movin' too fast, doing to much for these niggas | |
| Hum broI get paid to leave the house sideways | |
| Bitch stickin' out, what | |
| I can take it without quessn' | |
| You the mutha fuckin' coward | |
| And I' m the big bad wolf nigga | |
| And I' m coming to devoiour | |
| Aint nothin' better than money | |
| Sex and the power | |
| Oh, how I love to be on top of the power? | |
| FuckI got it to go wit it, clownish | |
| Out that back cuttin' up telly to telly bouncn' | |
| I got five women, four cars | |
| Three homes and two apartments | |
| A Rolex, ten leather jackets, | |
| And twenty pair of | |
| Michael Jordans | |
| All in it, front and back wheels spinnin' | |
| I might not bid to you | |
| But I' m the shit in the city | |
| Street things, represent the real no lim | |
| Razor sharp rhymes penatrating you skin | |
| The way I drop | |
| Bitch, gotta feel them | |
| I' m that close | |
| Try to stop me from gettn' it | |
| Stack yo chips, get yo paper | |
| Ball til you fall, young nigga fuck the haters | |
| Stack yo chips, get yo paper | |
| Ball til you fall, young nigga fuck the haters | |
| Stack yo chips, get yo paper | |
| Ball til you fall, young nigga fuck the haters | |
| Stack yo chips, get yo paper | |
| Ball til you fall, young nigga fuck the haters | |
| I make a million dollar dream become reality without a doubt | |
| I get paid for every rhyme coming out my mouth | |
| And gangsta rap pays the bills so | |
| I represent it | |
| And who we be | |
| Some soldiers down that no limit | |
| My young thugs love to get high off of my lyrics | |
| I have em' tweakn' | |
| Possessed like an evil spirit | |
| We on the rise | |
| But labeled as them bad guys | |
| We' re family tied | |
| And run like the enterprize | |
| Fool is you legal | |
| But bugs is segal | |
| This aint no sequil | |
| You damn sure not my equal | |
| And playa haters don' t last too long | |
| Axe a million motherfuckers with my disc | |
| Sittin' at they home | |
| My edvasaries is slowly being put to death | |
| I catch ' em gaspin' | |
| And trying to breathe | |
| They last breath | |
| I mean you reaching for the stars | |
| But you cant grip | |
| I told you, get yo paper nigga | |
| Stack yo chips | |
| Stack yo chips, get yo paper | |
| Ball til you fall, young nigga fuck the haters | |
| Stack yo chips, get yo paper | |
| Ball til you fall, young nigga fuck the haters | |
| Stack yo chips, get yo paper | |
| Ball til you fall, young nigga fuck the haters | |
| Stack yo chips, get yo paper | |
| Ball til you fall, young nigga fuck the haters |
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