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lirik lagu south park mexican - gangsterous

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(feat. powda)

(one time baby…for all my g’s, for all my g’s uh…)

[spm]
pistol grip pump on my lap at all times
still i got thump like the boy carmine
hold the block down in my camouflage suit
stomp when i walk and i’m stackin all loot
bling in my mouth but i can take it out
stepping up to me, something people think about
long and hard til they lose courage
mad cause they girl beat up and malnourished
picked up a star and she spunt two nights
chilled at my crib watchin kung fu fights
sw-ng and i swung from the houston
bet i go hard with no interruption
woodgrain wheel with the big daddy grill
higher than a hill, in my automobile
and we roll thick, takin no sh-t
45 on hip with the hollow point tip

[chorus: x2]
we’re comin gangsta, and gangsta’s how we come
we’re commin gangsta and wreckin for houston

[powda]
break it down, watch me clown i’mma break’em off
can’t f-ck with this mexican b-tch from the south
under oath keep it true at all times
love smoking weed and i love bustin rhymes
fine dime, stay fly keep it tight like a rubba
just f-ck’em , don’t love’em, like my sh-t undercova
cause i’mma hustla, gettin mine by any means
don’t be supprised, i aint quiet bout where the green
i like, i need, so that’s how it be
you can hit it or quit it, believe i will proceed
next – soon as i put cess in my chest
i forget, i ain’t the type of chick you’ll be hittin for free
comin’ gangsta, better believe and respect
me and that boy s.p. reppin houston tex

[chorus: x2]

[spm]
yo, it’s the boy los in a smoke gray ‘lac
forver be puttin hillwood on the map
rollin with ten pounds of steel on my lap
i’mma let you know that i stay about that
popped up pretty in a screwed up city
might come puerto rican broad like diddy
might come arabian or venezuelan
‘mote control radio, 84 sw-ngin
mix the drank up, po it in my dang cup
my girl on the phone trippin so i hang up
playboy status, man it’s hard to break habits
go through mo’ cabbage than a pack of d-mn rabbits
two cella-tels, million record sales
see ya boys puttin’ caine in ya nostrills
i rock phillys, my ‘lac pop wheelies
now i’m locked up with a dude that robbed chillies

[chorus:]


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