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SOUTH PARK MEXICAN
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Red Beams and Rice (feat. Juan Gotti)
[South Park Mexican:] Stop at the store make my bitch pump the gas & when we get home bitch you fittin' to cut my grass In my cutlass, 1982 My baby mama tell me Los I ain't afraid of you Fuck you durin' 15 percent of all my skriller Man that's the mother of my children I can't **** *** So I break bread & proceed to get head From a blonde bitch but her pussy hair red Strawberry patch got my back scratched up These other niggas rappin' but they can't catch up I'm blessed by the lord, Trinity keybord Peace to Filero representng Freeport I'm a rock the casper, cold as Alaska I'm sipping on a twoza & a 12 ounce shasta Docha Cabanna on my Nana Republic I keep my shit rugged cause the real niggas love it. What's the rock cooking? Nah I'm cookin' rock Got my bitch workin' at the ass naked spot I'm a bunny hop my new drop out the shop Peace to Big Chief from the what, Rap-A-Lot I'm a hoggin' dog while I creep in the fog Pull out my dick & tell my bitch I need a job If you want service, I'm at one eight hundred Murders Flippin' chickens while you niggas flippin' cheeseburgers I'm sippin' on Durbas, wetter than some surfers Man I'm so bad I should join the fuckin' circus Snatchin' hoes purses, hope my luck reverses I'm a take the 2 piece with the biscuit from Churches No way the churches could ever clean my paper Tell my mom I love her, tell my dad I don't hate you Soy Carlos Coy ese vato es bien loco 17 ki's & started off with 1 ocho.
[Chorus:] We kick in doors, we robbin' stores Creep 64's, welcome to gangsta life Packin' beams, destroyin' dreams Sag dicky jeans, we make them see the light In studios, with mafios, fuck jazzy hoes It just don't ever stop, so industry, prepare for me That double C, my nuts is all I got.
[South Park Mexican:] I walk in the club niggas stare at me Bitch you got something you want to share with me. Can't we just all live marely? Muthafuckers just wishin' they could burry me I pull my quete, mom say I'm just like my jefe Creepin' my carrucha, bangin' screw Tropa F, soy el S P M for my jente They want me on the billboard to say got leche Remember me from Reveille, X bitch was barely Everytime a nigga got shot cops questioned me Teenage murderer, gat named Ursla Chunked her & the baker she the bitch they searchin' for.
[Juan Gotti:] Rollin' out the hood, I came from the impossible Up a long gonna make it to a Conoco & if I did, what makes you think I'd have the dough Hollerin' like that, is makin' me unstoppable I'm a drop a fool & let him feel these things Ghetto vero pack a fero show you who I am I'm a make a change, didn't show the game Want to know my name & you heard of me I don't love a bitch & muthafuck a hoe Work at Stop & Go, cool like an eskimo Down to shovels, no & blizzard blind the game No more dyin' this pusher just can't be in vein I'm a see it, believe it we gone beat this man In the streets of game, this shit can't stay the same Steadily prayin' man, Diosito spread the wealth He said Juanito ---- is gonna sell itself.
[Chorus]
[South Park Mexican talkin':] That's all I got in this, dirty, dirty fuckin' game Uh, slangin' cocaine, uh & pack my little thing, uh I got a nice aim, uh, it's about money, fuck fame It ain't no shame, I'm a come down sun or rain S.P. muthafuckin' mexicano, actin' bad one throwed vato From H-Town to Colorado, uh, that's my mato I rock hoes, I rock shows, I pop foes. What's the deal? We in this bitch freestylin'. [laughs]
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