Boys On Da Cut
Quelle: Spotify
[South Park Mexican]
(Verse 1)
I woke up quick
At around two
Jump in my Benz and pick up DJ Screw
Boys out there
Makin' them tapes
Separate the real niggas from the fakes
My boy just got out
Did a flat ten
And he just can't stop talkin' 'bout that pen
My best friend
But time destroys all men
Now he don't give a fuck about goin' again
It ain't all good, but I ain't missin' no money
I'm just a thug motherfuck, and you can't take nothin' from me
Somebody once said they wanna see me dead
The next week, they found the boy with two holes in his head
I break bread with my killers in the H-TX
It's the SP-Mex
In the all black stretch
Known for my purity, pride, and security
A house costs as much as one piece of my jewelry
Chorus: South Park Mexican
Cause the boys on the cut don't give a fuck
You come talkin' that shit
Your eyes get shut
Boys out there, slangin' that yay
Only pussy motherfuckers say that crime don't pay
(Verse 2)
The time has come
And the day is here
2001
Is my motherfuckin' year
I come from the head, it's the boy named Los
The one that got everybody on they toes
Straight up
And still, I sell dope for a livin'
In the form of a compact disc
Fuck prison
No more savin' cans
No more collectin' pennies
I'll have your fuckin' clique hollin' "Who killed Kenny?"
With my gangsta bitch
That, I just met
She ridin' my dick, chuckin' up her set
I dance with the wolves
This is for my hood
Got the whole World fiendin' for the dope I cut
Repeat Chorus Twice
Hook: Ayana M
Fire
We on fire
We ain't gone stop
Droppin' these bombs
Fire
We on fire
We ain't gone stop
Droppin' these bombs
(Verse 3)
I was twelve years old
When I did my first jack
And I don't think that bitch ever got her purse back
With fifteen rocks
I bought my first car
Cooked my first batch of dope in a pickle jar
It's like uno, dos, tres, young Happy Perez
Got me sellin' this dope to anyone on two legs
Boys talkin' down, but I give two fucks
Step in my face
I put you in an all black tux
Layin' in a casket
Hard as a rock
My lead
Hit ya head and make it snap, crackle and pop
Now, how many times do I have to tell ya
All my life, I've been called a failure
My freestyle flow
Is so untouchable
I just got out the county jail two months ago
Now I'm in the studio
Just like Julio
In the city where them bitches never won a Super Bowl
Man, I can't stop, I'm a keep on droppin'
Seven of my bitches at the same mall shoppin'
At the galleria
Tell me, have you seen her
I fuck a country singer and a Houston ballerina
Plus a fine ass China
I used to be a dreamer
Now I bought my mom and dad a navigator and a beamer
Leave a mark in this game
Aztec Indian
I don't give a fuck cause every month I make a million
Repeat Hook
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