[South Park Mexican]
Uh
One time, baby
Yeah
Ain't no stoppin' this movement
Ha
Gotta roll with it
(Verse 1)
Land of dum-dum, is where I come from
Believe me when I tell you that you don't want none, son
A long hard road for this
Latin throne
You can catch me at the club in the
Back alone
Mommas
Don't let your babies grow up to be
Gangstas
k**ers taught to not give a f**
Hit 'em up with sign language
Reach for the stainless
Leave 'em brainless
I'm just explainin' how the game is
The strangest of things come to me at no surprise
f** pea shooters
All my gats are super-sized
Utilized all my allies
I run with the bad guys
I got seven Dope Houses
That's a franchise
Man cries if he was blessed with a heart
But I lost mine
In the back streets of South Park
Once again, it's Mr. SPM
And the sh** ain't gonna stop until I'm dead or in the pen
Chorus: Marilyn Rylander
He's a hustler
He's a father
He sits on the
Latin throne
He's a hustler
He's a father
He sits on the
Latin throne
(Verse 2)
We shootin' stars
Runnin' from cop cars
I got scars jumpin' metal gates and sharp bars
The hood is ours, save my pennies in a pickle jar
Everyday, you see me in a different crackhead's car
So bizarre how so many bullets miss my head
I told my mom that I'm gonna stick with this instead
f** the crack rock, I rapped and hit the jackpot
Now I'm on a plane, writin' on my laptop
It's all wiggy rockin' city to city
But I still feel my past catchin' up with me
Got more ends, bought my mom a gold Benz
But she worry cause I still got
All my old friends
Hopin' that I slow up and change one day
But these Hillwood streets got me raised one way
I told my lady, "One day, we gon' be like the Brady's"
But for now, I teach her how to use this .380
Repeat Chorus
(Verse 3)
Three years and countin', I been drinkin' from the music fountain
The Dope House sits in Houston like a f**in' mountain
Who you doubtin', this round is comin' out the south
I got non-believers with they foot in they mouth
I break Guinnesses, keep 'em off my premises
Used to be menaces
Now our dream's limitless
Isn't this a trip, not a slipper or a sleeper
n***as wantin' dope, still hittin' up my beeper
We can overcome the ghetto, even G's without a mother
Bread without bu*ter, I came crawlin' out a gutter
Born hustler
Used to drive an old gas guzzler
Fresh out the hood, I was sellin' dope last summer
Servin' zombies, a followin' as big as Gandhi's
Now I'm donkey-dickin' brunettes and blondies
Jammin' Jon B., with bottles of Dom P
The day of the wetback has striked upon thee
Repeat Chorus
{*Marilyn Rylander harmonizing*}
[Marilyn Rylander]
He's a hustler
He's a father
He sits on the Latin throne