[South Park Mexican:]
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What's the deal man? We back in this camp, man.
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I'm doin' this right here off the shot of coffee my boy Flaco gave me. You heard?
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Crease in my pants as I dance with the devil
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I used to ride a bike that only had 1 pedal
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No Nike kicks, broke than a bitch
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I started comin' up sellin' fat ass nicks
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I'm gonna flip it like a script at the [...] unit
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That's my new spot, 8 by 10 cubic
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Nah, I ain't stupid, I never have been
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They locked up they [...] now they all laughin'
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Celebratin' life with they kids & they wife's
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They wishin' I would die as my little girl cries
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I Always knew that these hoes would be comin' for me
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But my comeback's gone be something to see
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I can't stand a hoe, on a TV show
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That say I'm hispanic, or I'm Latino
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Bitch your a Mexican, say that shit.
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Why the fuck is you actin' scared to represent?
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[Chorus:]
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Everytime the wind blows I reach for my heat
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Peace to Sambo & my homey Pistol Pete
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I'm from the South East but got love for the North
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& these are just the Diaries that SPM wrote. [x2]
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[Rasheed:]
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Mr. SP can you spare a few pages
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To write what's on my mind & record a few tape &'s
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It's the Rasheed creepin' in my Batman boat
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My money tripled like the chin on a fatman throat
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But haters could they hate your voice I was kinda bored
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You know I always be the Dope House spinal cord
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I just been chillin' showin' boys how to wreck screw tapes
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& also how a haters body fits in one suitcase.
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[South Park Mexican:]
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I told you once, I eat you muthafuckers for lunch
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I pull more stunts than Knievel, bring it in by the tons
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I got guns, homey I got guns
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I heard you had some heat too, but not much
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I'm the pusher, run 'em like Alaskan huskys
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& still smoke the finest, right by the trust SKS
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Bring it to your chest
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You should know by now, I don't aim for the legs.
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[Chorus:]
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Everytime the wind blows I reach for my heat
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Peace to Sambo & my homey Pistol Pete
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I'm from the South East but got love for the North
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& these are just the Diaries that SPM wrote. [x2]
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[South Park Mexican:]
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Everybody gather round the fire, blow like a dryer
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I'm gonna run a little something by you
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In the battlefield is nothin' like you've ever known.
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Soy el pelon de Houston con fe y corazon
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Estereo, en serio, Houston hasta Mexico
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Cortalo, vendelo, SPM dejalo
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Vato es maton, con su homey Low G. Flores
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Juan Gotti bring dolores y casa's de millones
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Y Fiero, en este juego, necesitas huevos
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Mi treinta y ocho, you no te quiero
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Puro AK-47, you vete
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Tu vas pa tras y dile que te respete
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Cuando sales tengo jales en muchas partes
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Te doy coca y cuetes que son cuates
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Como mi ruka, maria juana, no hay otra
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Fumando me llamo Rolando Mota.
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[Chorus:]
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Everytime the wind blows I reach for my heat
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Peace to Sambo & my homey Pistol Pete
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I'm from the South East but got love for the North
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& these are just the Diaries that SPM wrote.
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Every time the wind blows I reach for my heat.
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& these are just the Diaries that SPM wrote.
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& these are just the Diaries that SPM wrote.
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& these are just the Diaries that SPM wrote.
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-----------------
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S.P.M. Diaries
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South Park Mexican |