Cam’ron - Chalupa lyrics

Cam’ron

Cam'ron [Cam'ron Giles] Manhattan, NY, U.S. 🇺🇸

[Cam’ron - Chalupa lyrics]

Yo this flow here is bulimics, anemic
Yo red beam it
Plus I got it on, you ain't never seen it
Never seen it some people say I'm conceited
But dougie I never cheated
Oh boy you'll get deleted, believe it
I could achieve it cuz look
Im on a Yamaha, laughing like ha ha ha
Na na na, want to talk, shots speak ra ra ra
Crib is like mardigra, no beads grow weed
Court case, courtside
Nigga in the nose bleeds
OG, Goatee, proceed, whole Ki's
Sorta like a janitor, stay within a parameter
Niggas got the hammer bra
Don't care about a camera
Could they put that dress off
First like grand ma ma
Hope you got the stamina
Because niggas be on worst
Blow reefa, no sneaker


Thought this was a converse
I told baby girl damn that's a hard purse
But you gotta get it in
Flavors girl like starburst

We counting money, yo doggie we couting money
Yo shit ain't even funny
But look at we counting money
Yo stupid up on the stoope
The game is in a stoope
Cuz look we get chalupa
Cha cha cha cha cha cha chalupa love

Winter time, I'm heated why they frigid
Lenox ave boy working with 8 digit's
Summer time came through in
Our may blizzaards
Old ladies looking like damn they did it
Cuz huh
I got to forty fifth just to get a snack box
2 piece, apple pie, feds taking snap shots
They know I'm known for hot rims, fast drops
Big trucks, big jewels
Whys from the have nots
Now every pocket on my clothing dawg
Have knots
10, 20, 30, 40, 50 thousand jack pot
Call my block gravel (why) it's mad rocks
Im the owner of the team, fuck the mascot
Sucking mad cock, 650 rag top
Damn, don't get hit with the
Jab that my dad got
Yall sasquatch, put it on your laptop
Yo not a door, but yessir it's pad locked

We do the interstate
Baby where the state patrol with 50lbs
And I ain't talking bout an eight year old
It can take a toll, hoping you can get parole
Play your role
The heat is so hot it can make you cold
And they say ima son of a bitch
Why, cuz I be with your son and your bitch
You don't deserve her
Your fair we won't hurt her
We taught her to be a squirter
Your sons about murder
Your brother well he my worker
Your sister well she my slurper
Your mom her ass is fat
My niggas they call her bertha
Once a week they might server her
With dick they gon serve her
Now she whining like a baby
Well maybe we'll get her gerber
Smack her on her ass, warm milk
Then we burp her yeah we left her nurtured
But well earth her, before we chirp her
You'll be a punching bag
Fam well put our beats on her
Or the Klu klux, white sheet on her
Or Miami jersey put the heat on her
Or a door mate I'm gone put my feet on her
Creep on em, leap on em
Yeah park the jeep on em
Americas most wanted, with no warrant!

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