South Park Mexican - Iatola lyrics

[South Park Mexican:] I'm meetin' up with the governor 3 2 & the Hillwood Hustla Comin' straight out the head though From the brain representin' my ghetto It's a trip how they die young In the hood in my cadillac flyer, through the 'wood Wit my homey Iatola in the Clover Pink soda mind of a noter Lean on my shoulder slang c**a 20 G's on my team Villanova Blow marijuana in the sauna While my n***as move dope on the corner V12 motor vida loca Now your b**h tryin' to give me her panocha Bad sweet roller in my troka & my girl called the cops 'cause I choked her Copa Cabana thankin' sana For the keyboard that came wit the sampler Turn up the Clarion wit the stelly on She wit me cause I am the champion. [South Park Mexican:] It's the same ol' story though n***a died 'cause he f**ed wit the wrong hoe It's the sign of the times man By a second thank God that I'm alive man Peace to my dead G's Fell short tryin' to stack up they Benji's In the midst & the fog Boys wanna squab All on my dick like corn on the cob You ain't sh** but a job for one of my k**ers. How many n***as must die by the trigger? I'm a sipper I'm a swerver first degree murder Smoke a fried stick & get wetter than a surfer No reversin' my nature 90 pounds on my pager I Don't love you I don't hate you but I will misplace you In the gutter for the f** of it Gangsta n***a chuggin' sh** Candy on my mothership & haters they can s** a dick. [Phone rings twice:] [South Park Mexican:] That's the god damn deal. & that's the god damn deal. [Man:] Dope House. [South Park Mexican:] Uh. Yeah hold up man. [Man:] Who this be? [South Park Mexican:] This... This how we do this. Man. [Man:] Who? [South Park Mexican:] So this what it came to y'all the same crew Old friends Southeast n***as claim blue But I don't g**n. I claim no color She lost her son. What if that was your mother? I sit back in my '92 blue 'Lac & I support foundations like LULAC I went to Alma in 2nd ward off of Sherman That was back when n***as jammin' to Peewee Herman. Smokin' with my teacher but not the preacher I remember f**in' Liz on the bleachers 1986 wasn't makin' hits I was chasin' chicks havin' bad relationships. Now I f** Asian b**hes fine Haitian b**hes Romanian Italian some f**in' bang delicious I went from pain to riches & I remain malicious Shoot 'em up & leave 'em layin' in some strange positions.