Boys on Da Cut - South Park Mexican

[First Verse:]

I woke up quick, at around two
Jumped in my benz, picked up DJ Screw
Boys out there, makin' them tapes
Separate the real n_ggas from the fakes
My boy just got out, did a flat ten
And he just can't stop talkin' bout that pen
My best friend, but time destroys all men
Now he don't give a f_ck about goin' again
It ain't all good, but I ain't missin' no money
I'm just a thug muthaf_cka and you can't take nothin' from me
Somebody once said they wanna see me dead
The next week they found the boy with two holes in his head
I break bread with my killas in the H-TX
It's the SP-Mex, in the all black stretch
Known for my purity, pride, and security
A house costs as much as one piece of my jewelry


Cuz the boys on the cut don't give a f_ck
You come talkin' that sh_t, your eyes get shut
Boys out there, slangin' that yay
Only p_ssy muthaf_ckas say that crime don't pay


[Second Verse:]

The time has come, and the day is here
Two thousand one, is my muthaf_ckin' year
I come from the head, it's the boy named Los
The one that got everybody on they toes
Straight up, and still I sell dope for a livin'
In the form of a compact disc, f_ck prison
No more savin' cans, no more collectin' pennies
I'll have your f_ckin' clique hollerin' "Who killed Kenny?"
For my Gangsta b_tch, that I just met
She ridin' my d_ck, chuckin' up her set
I dance with the wolves, this is for my hood
Got the whole World fiendin' for the dope I cut


[Bridge (Ayana M.):]

We on fire.......
We ain't gone stop....
Droppin' these boooooombs.....


[Third Verse:]

I was twelve years old, when I did my first jack
And I don't think that b_tch ever got her purse back
With fifteen rocks, I bought my first car
Cooked my first batch of dope in a pickle jar
It's like uno, dos, tres, young Happy Perez
Got me sellin' this dope to anyone on two legs
Boys talkin' down, but I give two f_cks
Step in my face, I put you in an all-black tux
Layin' in a casket, hard as a rock
My lead, hit'cha head and make it snap, crackle, and pop
Now how many times do I have to tell ya?
All my life I've been called a failure!
My freestyle flow, is so untouchable
I just got out the county jail two months ago
Now I'm in the studio, just like Julio
In the city where them b_tches never won a Super Bowl
Man I can't stop, I'ma keep on droppin'
Seven of my b_tches at the same mall shoppin'
At the galleria, tell me have you seen her?
I f_ck a country singer and a Houston ballerina
Plus a fine ass China, I used to be a dreamer
Now I bought my Mom and Dad a navigator and a beamer
Leave a mark in this game, ask Ted Indian
I don't give a f_ck cuz every month I make a million


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