Relax by Chamillionaire
Shit.
Chamillionaire:
Come let me tell you, man,
Relax, relax. (J. Holiday: From Texas to DC, baby.)
J. Holiday:
It's goin' down.
Come here now, J. Holiday.
That's the reason I come home, baby.
Chamillionaire:
Relax, relax,
(J. Holiday: Let's go, whoo!)
How could you be lonely,
They don't really know me,
Comfortable as ever like my hustle got us cozy,
Bottles lookin' rosy,
Bags meant to go G,
Poppin' tags while we Photoshoppin' like Adobee,
Cool as Obama,
All the drama was the old me,
These walls could talk,
They would say how they don't know me,
Always on the road,
No home could ever hold me,
Success is like a drug,
And I feel like I'm 'bout to OD,
Nah, you don't run around,
Actin' like you own me,
Wait til I get home,
Then you gonna put it on me,
Look at how we ballin', bitch,
One or two of colby,
Look at how they callin',
Voice matters what they owe me,
But they just some rookies and you know that you were OG,
After o'clock you know exactly where I'm gon' be,
You know how the road be,
groupies hoppin' on the sack,
But guess who's back to give you the business.
J. Holiday:
When I'm in the streets, on ma' grind,
You got me, and we gon' shine,
Plus I know you gon' go down home, and let me get mine,
One more reason to come home,
Off the streets,
Girl when I come home,
Off ma grind,
Relax, relax, relax.
Chamillionaire:
I got to be in the twelve,
Got the Beamer as well,
Grindin' like it ain't illegal,
And I ain't seein' a jail,
On the chase for the paper,
I'm on the tip of the tail,
I'm the Clyde to your Bonnie,
And we ain't leavin' a share,
My fat ex-girlfriend, was tryin' to see me get mailed,
The UPS in the downs, and you still seem to appear.
You ain't breakin' a sweat, put your feet in the air,
And while I ride presidential, I'll let you be my Michelle,
In this life all these of troubles, I know it's easy to fail,
But when it's us against the world, me and you like "oh yeah",
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