[South Park Mexican]
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Stop at the store make my bitch pump the gas
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And when we get home bitch you fitting to cut my grass
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In my cutlass, 1982
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My baby mama tell me Los I ain't afraid of you
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Fuck you during 15 percent of all my skrilla
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Man that's the mother of my children I can't kill her
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So I break bread and proceed to get head
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From a blonde bitch but her pussy hair red
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Strawberry patch got my back scratched up
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These other niggas rapping but they can't catch up
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I'm blessed by the lord, Trinity keybord
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Peace to Filero representng Freeport
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I'ma rock the casper, cold as Alaska
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I'm sipping on a twoza and a twelve ounce shasta
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Docha Cabanna on my Nana Republic
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I keep my shit rugged cause the real niggas love it
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What's the rock cooking, nah I'm cooking rock
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Got my bitch working at the butt naked spot
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I'ma bunny hop my new drop out the shop
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Peace to Big Chief from the what, Rap-A-Lot
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I'ma hogging dog while I creep in the fog
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Pull out my dick and tell my bitch I need a job
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If you want service, I'm at 1-800-Murders
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Flipping chickens while you niggas flipping cheeseburgers
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I'm sipping on Durbas, wetter than some surfers
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Man I'm so bad I should join the fucking circus
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Snatching hoes purses, hope my luck reverses
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I'ma take the two piece with the biscuit from Churches
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No way the churches could ever clean my paper
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Tell my mom I love her, tell my dad I don't hate you
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Soy Carlos Coy ese vato es bien loco
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Seventeen ki's and started off with one ocho
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[Chorus]
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We kick in doors, we robbing stores
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Creep 64's, welcome to gangsta life
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Packing beams, destroying dreams
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Sag dickie jeans, we make them see the light
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In studios, with mafios, fuck jazzy hoes
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It just don't ever stop, so industry, prepare for me
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That double C, my nuts is all I got
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[South Park Mexican]
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I walk in the club niggas stare at me
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Bitch you got something you want to share with me
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Can't we just all live mare-ly
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Motherfuckers just wishing they could burry me
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I pull my quete, mom say I'm just like my jefe
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Creeping my carrucha, banging screw
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Tropa F, soy el S P M for my jente
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They want me on the billboard to say got leche
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Remember me from Reveille, X bitch was bare-ly
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Everytime a nigga got shot cops questioned me
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Teenage murderer, gat named Ursla
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Chunked her and the baker she the bitch they searching for
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[Juan Gotti]
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Rolling out the hood, I came from the impossible
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Up a long gonna make it to a Conoco
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And if I did, what makes you think I'd have the dough
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Hollering like that, is making me unstoppable
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I'ma drop a fool and let him feel these things
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Ghetto vero pack a fero show you who I am
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I'ma make a change, didn't show the game
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Want to know my name, and you heard of me
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I don't love a bitch, and motherfuck a hoe
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Work at Stop-&-Go, cool like an eskimo
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Down to shovels, no, and blizzard blind the game
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No more dying, this pusher just can't be in vein
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I'ma see it, believe it we gone beat this man
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In the streets of game, this shit can't stay the same
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Steadily praying man, Diosito spread the wealth
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He said Juanito, dope is gonna sell itself
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[Chorus]
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[South Park Mexican talking]
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That's all I got in this, dirty, dirty fucking game
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Uh, slanging cocaine, uh, and pack my little thang, uh
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I got a nice aim, uh, it's about money, fuck fame
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It ain't no shame, I'ma come down sun or rain
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S.P. motherfucking mexicano, actin bad one throwed vato
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From H-Town to Colorado, uh, that's my mato
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I rock hoes, I rock shows, I pop foes, what's the deal
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We in this bitch freestyling [laughs]
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-----------------
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Red Beams And Rice
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South Park Mexican (SPM) |