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Viewing Lyrics for Ghetto Tales:
| | | Artist: | South Park Mexican |
| | Album: | Power Moves | | Track: | Ghetto Tales | | | | Date Added: | 18/10/2007 | | Views: | 1 | | | | Lyrics: | f/ A.C. Chill, L.T.
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 | | | |
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