Lyrics:

(*talking*)As we get on the proceedings this eveningHa-ha, it's Koopa nigga, it's Koopa niggaHey man switch styles man, stay switching stylesYou know I'm tal'n bout, switch everything niggaPaint switching, no teamsWe ain't switching teams baby, ha alreadyIt's Color Changin' Click, hey Mix Tape MessiahLet's go, let's go, let's go yeah[Chamillionaire]I was at Strokers in ATL, and they was showing Cham and slutsMy nigga Killa's Klan with us, and did some sh.. I can't discussThey was bad they was yellow, they was saying can you handle usPull the door knob on the ceiling, cause I'm about to handle upShowing up at the hotel, now is this chick a fan or whatIf she sipping that's a plus, but not that Crys' cause that's for usCome to the hotel wondering if you stripping, that's a mustMake a meal out of my nuts, and open up a can of suckControversy sells, I swear I spit a rhyme that'll shockI wreck so I get respect in the digital underground, like I'm PacLabels scheme and they plot, they telling me sign on the dotI cracked a platinum smile and he knew, that was a sign I would notNo warrants when the laws pull up behind, I'ma stopPrinces cuts the size of a window, I'ma wind down my watchPussy passenger still mad, cause I'm rewinding on chopsTossed his work inside my lap, and said that I got the rocksScreens fall like rain, while my trunk shaking like thunder(*mumbling*), my verse sound like a mumbleOnlookers wonder, if I'm level headed or humbleTill I get to speaking bout drama, then I end a sentence with uh-uhBack that I'm Israel, I'm Istanbul I'm thinking PakistaniForeign cars no I'm dressing up, cause the only gator comes after NaviStudents getting out of barber school, graduating they getting happyAll my hoes got longer hair, than Cousin It on the Adams FamilySixty inch T.V. screen, I could view from the side angleIn my crib you'll get lost, it's like the Bermuda TiangleSaid I'd knew you'd be a king, so Hakim is what I named youI told my mama thanks, now the king is what I claim foolWhen it comes to this rap game nigga, passionate for it brahYour c.d. packages showing up, laughing after it's blowing upThink I'm playing by my pistol, until I'm smacking it over yaShooting spiders off my rims, like I got arach-a-naphobiaSt. Lunatics say it's tipped, for me that pimp is the drillWhile she tasting my testicles, see the tip of my steelKnow you getting that scrill, pulling up on whips with the grill And if that slab only got fo' you know, it's missing a wheel Cause I'm a Texas tycoon, flat T.V. screens in my roomSo many flakes in my pinky, say I need Vidal Sassoon[Switch Styles lyrics on http://www.elyricsworld.com]Fish in the fish tank gon sip drank, yeah they'll be leaning by noonAnd the two Brazilian beauties, come in to clean my lagoonWon't see no damn silver spoon, inside my mouth just my kitchenI'm popped up with the trunk up wreck, in other words we tippingLooked in my garage, noticed a couple cars is missingLet me see one...two...three, my bad I'm trippingKinda look like I'm Cripping, when my paint change to blueBy the way my paint change to red, you would swear I'm claiming that tooYeah they be banging that Whoo Kid, and be banging that ClueBut down in Texas the changer, ain't never changing from ScrewSeen the slugs that you spittin at me, I mean the slugs that you missin at meSeen you and you ain't getting at me, man the game is really getting crappyATL with Killa Kill, Status Quo and that Lil' ScrappyI don't wear no throwbacks, cause the trend is really getting tackyCommercial won't hurt you, cause that's gon get you mo' cashBut spend that cash on security, cause we gon whip your assMusic slower than a running turtle, tell you what they sip in my circleSamuel Jackson, Whoopie Goldberg, Oprah Winfrey the color purple(*talking*)Ha-ha (ha-ha), that was a good oneThat was a good one, ha-ha[Chamillionaire]I told you you don't want problems, you didn't believe itGo get a bodyguard, cause you're gonna need itWe're gonna bomb you, worse than OsamaGet it in your head, nigga I tried to warn yaAll these boys acting like, they be getting do'But you can't hide the truth, a real baller gon knowAll these boys acting like, they ain't really hoesBut you can't hide the truth, a real nigga gon knowAll these boys acting like, they can call a stoneLet's break these boys off, and let em know we got it so-o-o-o-o-wedMix Tape, Mi-Mix Tape, Mi-Mix Tape Messiah - 3xHey I'm fins to do my thaaaang, hey I'm repping Color ChaaaangeHey we fins to do our thaaaang, hey I'm repping Color Chaaaange(*talking*)We gon slap box, soon as we doneThat shit was no test, let's see who gets the most hits to the headI'ma slap the shit out you watch, wish a nigga would of-Let the motherf**ker touch me, I'm gon smack the shit out of himI ain't no f**king punk, nigga you better get that-aaah hold upOh shit (*gun shot*)