Текст песни South park mexican - Dope Game
South park mexican - Dope Game слова песни
Check one, check two, lets take a cruiseI done did the game every which way but looseNothing left to do except collect my cashAnd I bet that ass that the Mex gon` lastPut the past on paper, threw away my pagerCuz these boys keep callin from locs to cookie bakerMama saved em from the hate, now I`m hard with the painI`m in the place in your face tryin to sell you a tapeI break records in Texas creepin in Caddies and BenzesAnd a pretender if he step up to the bullet bartenderI bet I check and wreck a sucker riding bumper to bumperI might dump the whole clip and miss and hit your uncleI ain`t trippin, flippin, sippin on purple LiptonDiggin women in the drop lemon, g livinI was driven to my last nerve, hittin curbsPuttin twenties on a grass hurstEnd of verse[Chorus x2]No shameWelcome to the dope gameThis is were we don`t playLeave your boys with no brainsWhoridasI remember long ago I never got no loveStill I knew that one day I`d be popularI used to stand in the circle trying to smoke your budJust hopin that the blunt wouldn`t pass me upI used to ask for a sip of your syrupI used to never walk around with the white cupNow I eat eighteen steaks, on silver platesGirls fanin my face, others give me grapesBy the grace of God, I was given the jobTo run through the rap game like corn on the cobSo blessed in my test, I bought my sets in the southwestI ain`t got no credit cards except Mexican ExpressI`ma dress my baby girl and rock the whole damn worldIf you needs tracks Happy P got my referalYour head twirl to the sounds of the SP MexRidin in the Lex with a dog named PlexSouthside to the north, at the old golf courseThe valet the white Porsche with the bulletproof doors[Chorus x2]It`s the L-O-S C-O-YPack the pistola, oh me oh myMy nina shine like the sun, I never ask for a crumbFor breakfast my chef makes me eggs-fuyonI`ve come from the hills of ghetto thrills and chillsThree wheelin, dope dealin, killin nothin but squeelsMy third wish was to break this curse and mythNow I`m worldwide status on your satilite dishPunk checker, chump wrecker, got the salt and the pepperLeft a mark in the game and never been a half stepperLeopard skin on my couch, be like Oscar the GrouchFrom the streets, pullin rocks out my kangaroo pouchBut I told these boys, never at my houseWhether it`s the ounce that puts leather on my couchA thousand dollars a week, my baby girl`s allowanceDope House bouncin cash to my forgein accounts[Chorus x2]