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INICIO >
SOUTH PARK MEXICAN (SPM)
> GHETTO TALES EN ESPAñOL
Letra Ghetto Tales de South Park Mexican (spm) original
Phat Money Records
SPM baby
Putting it down with that Phat Money Records
Dope House Records
Phat Stacks, A.C. Chill, L.T.
This one's Ghetto Tales
What you know about that?
Chorus (2Xs)>
These are the tales, the Ghetto Tales
Dope sales and life is hell, trying to stay out of jail
I'm rolling H-town South Park backstreets
A.C. Chill all the O.G.'s know me
In that Bourbon with the candy paint
For deep most of my niggas ain't got no car that's why
We so deep
We left a funeral to see my homie's mamma cry
It always hurt me when any of my homies die
All of a sudden gun shots rang out
I guess these young G's plexin' gang bang clout
We pulled over I said “Let me out this bitch man”
One of these niggas finna get they wig split man
Pulled out my strap you know how the show goes
Somebody yelled out and yo here come the Po-Po's
I told my niggax “Yo man I'll Catch you later”
Got pocket full of weed plus they got me on paper
Bailed around the corner to holla at my homie
Next thing you know the fucking haters roll up on me
Damn, how much hating can a young nigga take?
First chance I get a mother fucker finna break
They caught me, now I'm in the jail cell pacing
Damn, a violation
Eighteen months is what I'm facing
Chorus (2Xs)>
Im pushing weight trying to have it
Everything is flat
But at the same time I'm leaving niggas on their back
Up in the neighborhood I'm trying to stack a little cream
I'm paper chasing me and we trying to stack some green
And everything is far as bad when it comes to drama
I'm trying to make a little cash for me, Jay, and mamma
Ain't paying no bills but these niggas got me fucked up
I rather sit on streets than see my ass locked up
And serving fiends is an everyday life thing
And from the cells chilling trying to have a nice day
And for this 420 Eastex life thing
I got the skills to hit a nigga from big mar man
And platinum shit we gonna drop on the block-a-dee
Come watch my tongue twist wrecking with my boy “C”
Trying to survive make a meal with these ghetto dreams
We playa made plus we from the heart of S.E.
Chorus (2Xs)>
SPM baby sitting dope fiends at the dead end
Fighting over sales with my motherfucking best friend
Used to be broke and assed out
Now I buy Diamonds that make my wife pass out
Bad route was a path I chose
Blasting hoes
At last I rose
I got cash and clothes
From the crack I sold to let you bastards know
Stacking dough sitting on glass and vogues
My ass gonna show
I'm straight out of the slums
South Park where you get your car washed for crumbs
But these laws is on a cookout
I used to get took out
Three dollar pieces for my look out
Licensed cookie baker
That's my profession
Never have my dope in my own possession
Niggas selling cocaine in my domain
I sneak up from the back and take you out with no pain
Chorus (2Xs)>
Letra Ghetto Tales de South Park Mexican (spm) en español
Phat Money Records SPM bebé Ponerla en el suelo con ese dinero Registros Phat Dope House Records Phat Pilas, AC Chill, LT Tales Ghetto de este uno ¿Qué sabe usted de eso? Coro (2xS)> Estos son los cuentos, los cuentos de Ghetto Ventas de droga y la vida es el infierno, tratando de mantenerse fuera de la cárcel Estoy rodando H-town South Park callejuelas AC Chill toda la OG me conocen En ese Bourbon con la pintura de caramelo Para más profundo de mis niggas no tengo ningún coche que es por qué Estamos tan profundo Nos dejó un funeral para ver mamma llanto de mi vecino Siempre me duele cuando alguno de mis homies mueren De repente los disparos resonaron Supongo plexin 'gang bang influencia de estos jóvenes T Nos detuvimos dije Déjame salir este hombre perra Uno de estos niggas finna conseguir que la peluca de hombre dividido Saqué mi correa que sepa cómo va el espectáculo Alguien gritó y yo aquí viene la Po-Po de Le dije a mi hombre Yo niggax Te veo después Tiene bolsillo lleno de malas hierbas además de que me pusieron en el papel Afianzado en la esquina de holla en mi homie Lo siguiente que sabes los malditos enemigos ruedan para arriba en mí Maldita sea, ¿cuánto puede odiar un yo
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