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(feat. T-Pain, Doughboy) Yo this is your boy Mike Fresh checkin in with my man Thrill Da Playa Your Chevy Remix, it's goin down right here T-Pain on the track Your hood to my hood I'm a dog with a Chev' Throw your keys up (Your Chevy) Get your paint wet It's goin down right here man This is Your Chevy All my boys with a Chevy, your hood to my hood (Your Chevy) It's goin down right here Thrill Da Playa...let's go [Chorus 1:] Your Chevy don't drop like mine Don't be thinking ya got the block like mine Your Chevy don't drop like mine Don't be thinking ya got the block like mine [Thrill Da PLaya:] His girlfriend love my Chevy Her boyfriend hate my Chevy I heard him and all his boys gon' try and take my Chevy Letras de cancionesAnd mutiliate my Chevy, strip it, gut it, burn it up But they all don't seem they care like Joe I tell em turn me up A lil bit louder now let's mixture all the haters, hear me I got no route, let's claim, send them hoes and haters with me Thrill Da Playa, Dubal County, raised, born and thrill Take it how you want it, take it playa how you wanna play it Cause your Chevy don't drop like mine The paint, the wood, the talk, the hust', the wheels He'll be beepin down the block like mine He ain't nothin but a natty seats SS They ain't nothin but them salties in the headrest My Chevy stay fresh, you know I keep em tight I'm Thrill Da Playa dog, that's just what the ladies like [Chorus 2:] Your Chevy don't drop like mine [x2] And don't be beating down the block like mine (Don't be beatin beatin beatin) Your Chevy don't drop like mine [x2] And don't be beating down the block like mine (Don't be beatin beatin beatin) [T-Pain:] I make my, I make my, I make my, I got a thing for Caprices (Oh no) My rims taller then my nephews and nieces (Two-four's you know) I got a 350 engine with a mid-sized cam I like candy and big wheels so a kid I am Like damn, the three-o-five hands on that thang My four twelves shake the ground so they scared of that thang I hit the scene so clean with my shirt buttoned up I know it hurt because the rims and the skirt is buttoned up And no, your Chevy ain't quite like mine You ain't got the trail to hit the matching bike like mine Aay, I switch out, I get out, and I ain't gotta fit in My outfit will make you flip out like uh ohhh [Chorus 2] [Doughboy:] Dough Boy, tell me what it is pimpin Old school chrome, how I'm dippin the same color and pop eyes Spin it when I'm in it, lay back, I'm sittin Spreewells spinnin, right into the double shot of Henney Brown as a penney, how my seats look 450 motor eatin up the road like beef when it's cooked at a barbecue Listen to the sounds of my Impala booty Aqua blue wet and sticky like I used a lotta glue If your Chevy was like mine, them bitches would follow you But looks like they don't, cause you ain't got no funk And that ain't what they want Them solo berries sound like a gorilla trying to get on my trunk Yeah [Chorus 2] From Letras Mania