South Park Mexican — Wizard of Oz

[Sonja Otero] Yeah, yi, yeah Chorus: Sonja Otero Now, come follow me Down yellow brick road To Wizard Of O-Z Hillwood Hustler Got what you need Repeat Chorus [South Park Mexican] (Verse 1) It were plain to see Since the age of three One day, dope fiends'll be pagin' me I got crunk in the game, niggas knew my name Hillwood The place I gain my fame Sixteen In a '77 Seville Smoke grey, gold trim, big daddy grill Back in '86, I was choppin' bricks To think, a damn Paper Mate Got me rich I got Love for the hustlers in every hood With hate in your heart, it'll never be good I feel blessed, but confess, I blow sess, for my stress It's that Mex, with a "S," on my chest Nonetheless, I was real with the homies With the O-Z's, runnin' from the police No peace Blow sweets on cold streets Dope fiends gon' bring a nigga more green (Bring a nigga more green...) Repeat Chorus Twice (Verse 2) My money triple Sippin' ripple, livin' simple Rollin' paper squares out a fat ass nickle Trick on my dick, for the bricks I chop Pigs in my mix, when they hit my block Used to catch a raid 'bout every six months Just a check up To see if id slip once Call it one time, some rhyme 'bout this shit I can slide in my sandals, but never will I slip Undercovers hit the set Man, y'all funny Takin' them crumbs and givin' Mark money Tryin' to convict 'em I ain't fallin' victim Fool, I know your face, and my boys I done hipped em They want me bad, so mad as they burn off Fucking with them hoes, now my blunt done turned off No other way, just another day on the spot If you played, then you pay, it don't never stop (It don't never stop...) Repeat Chorus Twice (Verse 3) I wrote this book 'bout a hopeless crook Livin' in the land where the coke is cooked Where hoes get took, and the joker's good Where smoker's hooked in the soldier's hood That lonely Wood Where his homies stood Tryin' to change myself if I only could I'm just your Hillwood hustler Street rhyme rustler Blowin' more smoke than a broke down muffler But I'm takin' losses It ain't easy working jobs With no fuckin' bosses Sellin' dope Is the hardest thing a man can do Risking life And your freedom for a buck or two Still, I feel If you lose control, homie, you'se a ho Real G's keep they life on cruise control When the police kick door And raid my crib I tell 'em pigs of the slippers "That's not what I did" (That's not what I did...) Repeat Chorus Twice