South Park Mexican — Boys On Da Cut

[South Park Mexican] (Verse 1) I woke up quick At around two Jump in my Benz and pick up DJ Screw Boys out there Makin' them tapes Separate the real niggas 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 fuck about goin' again It ain't all good, but I ain't missin' no money I'm just a thug motherfuck, 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 killers 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 Chorus: South Park Mexican Cause the boys on the cut don't give a fuck You come talkin' that shit Your eyes get shut Boys out there, slangin' that yay Only pussy motherfuckers say that crime don't pay (Verse 2) The time has come And the day is here 2001 Is my motherfuckin' 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 Fuck prison No more savin' cans No more collectin' pennies I'll have your fuckin' clique hollin' "Who killed Kenny?" With my gangsta bitch That, I just met She ridin' my dick, chuckin' up her set I dance with the wolves This is for my hood Got the whole World fiendin' for the dope I cut Repeat Chorus Twice Hook: Ayana M Fire We on fire We ain't gone stop Droppin' these bombs Fire We on fire We ain't gone stop Droppin' these bombs (Verse 3) I was twelve years old When I did my first jack And I don't think that bitch 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 fucks Step in my face I put you in an all black tux Layin' in a casket Hard as a rock My lead Hit ya 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 bitches never won a Super Bowl Man, I can't stop, I'm a keep on droppin' Seven of my bitches at the same mall shoppin' At the galleria Tell me, have you seen her I fuck 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 Aztec Indian I don't give a fuck cause every month I make a million Repeat Hook