South Park Mexican - Ghetto Tales lyrics

(feat. 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 n***as 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 b**h man" One of these n***as 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 n***ax "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 f**ing haters roll up on me Damn, how much hating can a young n***a take? First chance I get a mother f**er 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 n***as 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 n***as got me f**ed up I rather sit on streets than see my a** 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 sk**s to hit a n***a from big mar man And platinum sh** 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 motherf**ing best friend Used to be broke and a**ed out Now I buy Diamonds that make my wife pa** 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 ba*tards know Stacking dough sitting on gla** and vogues My a** 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 n***as selling c**aine in my domain I sneak up from the back and take you out with no pain [Chorus (2Xs)]