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South Park Mexican - Ghetto Tales lyrics
f/ A.C. Chill, L.T. Phat Money Records SPM baby Putting it down with that Phat Money Records Dope House Records Phat Stacks, A.C. Chill, L.T. This one's Ghetto Tales What you know about that? Chorus (2Xs) These are the tales, the Ghetto Tales Dope sales and life is hell, trying to stay out of jail I'm rolling H-town South Park backstreets A.C. Chill all the O.G.'s know me In that Bourbon with the candy paint For deep most of my niggas ain't got no car that's why we so deep We left a funeral to see my homie's mamma cry It always hurt me when any of my homies die All of a sudden gun shots rang out I guess these young G's plexin' gang bang clout We pulled over I said “Let me out this bitch man” One of these niggas finna get they wig split man Pulled out my strap you know how the show goes Somebody yelled out and yo here come the Po-Po's I told my niggax “Yo man I'll Catch you later” Got pocket full of weed plus they got me on paper Bailed around the corner to holla at my homie Next thing you know the fucking haters roll up on me Damn, how much hating can a young nigga take? First chance I get a mother fucker finna break They caught me, now I'm in the jail cell pacing Damn, a violation Eighteen months is what I'm facing Chorus (2Xs) Im pushing weight trying to have it Everything is flat But at the same time I'm leaving niggas on their back Up in the neighborhood I'm trying to stack a little cream I'm paper chasing me and we trying to stack some green And everything is far as bad when it comes to drama I'm trying to make a little cash for me, Jay, and mamma Ain't paying no bills but these niggas got me fucked up I rather sit on streets than see my ass locked up And serving fiends is an everyday life thing And from the cells chilling trying to have a nice day And for this 420 Eastex life thing I got the skills to hit a nigga from big mar man And platinum shit we gonna drop on the block-a-dee Come watch my tongue twist wrecking with my boy “C” Trying to survive make a meal with these ghetto dreams We playa made plus we from the heart of S.E. Chorus (2Xs) SPM baby sitting dope fiends at the dead end Fighting over sales with my motherfucking best friend Used to be broke and assed out Now I buy Diamonds that make my wife pass out Bad route was a path I chose Blasting hoes At last I rose I got cash and clothes From the crack I sold to let you bastards know Stacking dough sitting on glass and vogues My ass gonna show I'm straight out of the slums South Park where you get your car washed for crumbs But these laws is on a cookout I used to get took out Three dollar pieces for my look out Licensed cookie baker That's my profession Never have my dope in my own possession Niggas selling cocaine in my domain I sneak up from the back and take you out with no pain Chorus (2Xs |
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