Stop at the store make my bitch pump the gas
And when we get home bitch you fitting to cut my grass
In my cutlass, 1982
My baby mama tell me Los I aint afraid of you
Fuck you during 15 percent of all my skrilla
Man thats the mother of my children I cant kill her
So I break bread and proceed to get head
From a blonde bitch but her pussy hair red
Strawberry patch got my back scratched up
These other niggas rapping but they cant catch up
Im blessed by the lord, Trinity keybord
Peace to Filero representng Freeport
Ima rock the casper, cold as Alaska
Im sipping on a twoza and a twelve ounce shasta
Docha Cabanna on my Nana Republic
I keep my shit rugged cause the real niggas love it
Whats the rock cooking, nah Im cooking rock
Got my bitch working at the butt naked spot
Ima bunny hop my new drop out the shop
Peace to Big Chief from the what, Rap-A-Lot
Ima hogging dog while I creep in the fog
Pull out my dick and tell my bitch I need a job
If you want service, Im at 1-800-Murders
Flipping chickens while you niggas flipping cheeseburgers
Im sipping on Durbas, wetter than some surfers
Man Im so bad I should join the fucking circus
Snatching hoes purses, hope my luck reverses
Ima take the two piece with the biscuit from Churches
No way the churches could ever clean my paper
Tell my mom I love her, tell my dad I dont hate you
Soy Carlos Coy ese vato es bien loco
Seventeen kis and started off with one ocho
We kick in doors, we robbing stores
Creep 64s, welcome to gangsta life
Packing beams, destroying dreams
Sag dickie jeans, we make them see the light
In studios, with mafios, fuck jazzy hoes
It just dont ever stop, so industry, prepare for me
That double C, my nuts is all I got
I walk in the club niggas stare at me
Bitch you got something you want to share with me
Cant we just all live mare-ly
Motherfuckers just wishing they could burry me
I pull my quete, mom say Im just like my jefe
Creeping my carrucha, banging screw
Tropa F, soy el S P M for my jente
They want me on the billboard to say got leche
Remember me from Reveille, X bitch was bare-ly
Everytime a nigga got shot cops questioned me
Teenage murderer, gat named Ursla
Chunked her and the baker she the bitch they searching for
Rolling out the hood, I came from the impossible
Up a long gonna make it to a Conoco
And if I did, what makes you think Id have the dough
Hollering like that, is making me unstoppable
Ima drop a fool and let him feel these things
Ghetto vero pack a fero show you who I am
Ima make a change, didnt show the game
Want to know my name, and you heard of me
I dont love a bitch, and motherfuck a hoe
Work at Stop-&-Go, cool like an eskimo
Down to shovels, no, and blizzard blind the game
No more dying, this pusher just cant be in vein
Ima see it, believe it we gone beat this man
In the streets of game, this shit cant stay the same
Steadily praying man, Diosito spread the wealth
He said Juanito, dope is gonna sell itself
Thats all I got in this, dirty, dirty fucking game
Uh, slanging cocaine, uh, and pack my little thang, uh
I got a nice aim, uh, its about money, fuck fame
It aint no shame, Ima come down sun or rain
S.P. motherfucking mexicano, actin bad one throwed vato
From H-Town to Colorado, uh, thats my mato
I rock hoes, I rock shows, I pop foes, whats the deal
We in this bitch freestyling
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