bitch you aint with my fam I don't cut for the jealous Guess where your gal is All on my weenie like mustard and relish [Chorus: Baby Beesh] Oh my my, oh
And I'm Draped Up and dripped out Eighty-four spiderwebs, got your boy tipped out [Repeat Chorus] [Verse 2: South Park Mexican] I got chicks like Pamela
they call Honduras Nothing fake about my life except my car insurance Bullet proof vest, my jefa sense stress Nothing positive about me, except my piss
[South Park Mexican talking] We ain't tripping, y'all one damn one damn time [South Park Mexican] What the dang deal, to the Dallas Texas Last night
when you hear my album The cadillac boucing I drunk my bitch a thousand In the mall balling while you motherf**kers browsing, ha ha (Chorus) (South Park Mexican
ma represent it My house ain't rented Always kept it real while you boys pretended Lace my Pippins Cook my chickens They shot my boy missed me by inches Now my
] It's the l-o-s c-o-y Pack the pistola, oh me oh my My nina shine like the sun, I never ask for a crumb For breakfast my chef makes me eggs-fuyon I'
rechop it [chorus] 2x Verse 2 [south park mexican] Smoking smelly Put a hole in your belly You wan't to test us oh really Got a call on my celley They
boy rasheed All the way from the north philadelphia ghettos To the south park slums Representin in that dope house with my man The south park mexican
, Down South mane, Houston, Texas mane, with my smokin' cousin [SPM] Mister S-P baby [Baby Beesh] S-P-M baby boy, South Park Mexican, With my
to me at the wrong time and at the wrong place fuck all yo hating ass bitches this is what I represent Chicano park/ south side / K.O.D./Colina park
Attack your whole staff like a pack full of pit bulls You simple, I'm complex And coming on next, oh take a wild guess, the South Park Mex Spark sess
when i tried to do a simple interview with her for my magazine and she was acting quite stuck up. Yaya: oh ya, speak of magazine, she come to my store
Whoridaz It`s the L-O-S-C-O-Y Pack the pistola, oh me oh my My nina shine like the sun, I never ask for a crumb For breakfast my chef makes me eggs-
SPM:] Damn! My-my phone. Hold... Hold on, Filero, let me answer this phone. Dope House Records. [Jazzmine over phone:] Is Juan Gotti there? [SPM:] Um, nah, baby. Your calling my
-three years old, oh yeah, I checked it all Probably met him at the mall, spendin' up my cash G-string up your ass, wearin' tight ass pants Oh my, look
enough I screamed at the top of my lungs, "Where am I, what have I done?" They stuffed my mouth so I couldn't bite my tongue then they opened my arm
get, them contracts no joke Can't ask Sammy Davis Jr., bout dying flat broke Don't take a rope to hang yourself, this game can be deadly Ask South Park Mexican
