SPM Diaries

歌詞

[South Park Mexican:] What's the deal man? We back in this camp, man. I'm doin' this right here off a shot of coffee my boy Flaco gave me. You heard? Crease in my pants as I dance with the devil I used to ride a bike that only had 1 pedal No Nike kicks, broke than a bitch I started comin' up sellin' fat ass nicks I'm gonna flip it like a script at the [...] unit That's my new spot, 8 by 10 cubic Nah, I ain't stupid, I never have been They locked up they [...] now they all laughin' Celebratin' life with they kids & they wife's They wishin' I would die as my little girl cries I Always knew that these hoes would be comin' for me But my comeback's gon' be somethin' to see I can't stand a hoe, on a TV show That say I'm hispanic, or I'm Latino Bitch you a Mexican, say that shit. Why the fuck is you actin' scared to represent? [Chorus:] Everytime the wind blows I reach for my heat Peace to Sambo & my homey Pistol Pete I'm from the South East but got love for the North & these are just the Diaries that SPM wrote. [x2] [Rasheed:] Mr. SP can you spare a few pages To write what's on my mind & record a few tape &'s It's the Rasheed creepin' in my Batman boat My money triple like the chin on a fatman throat But haters could they hate your voice I was kind of bored You know I always be the Dope House spinal cord I just been chillin' showin' boys how to wreck screw tapes & also how a haters body fits in one suitcase. [South Park Mexican:] I told you once, I eat you muthafuckers for lunch I pull more stunts than Knievel, bring it in by the tons I got guns, homey I got guns I heard you had some heat too, but not much I'm the pusher, run 'em like Alaskan huskys & still smoke the finest, right by the trust SKS Bring it to your chest You should know by now, I don't aim for the legs. [Chorus:] Everytime the wind blows I reach for my heat Peace to Sambo & my homey Pistol Pete I'm from the South East but got love for the North & these are just the Diaries that SPM wrote. [x2] [South Park Mexican:] Everybody gather round the fire, blow like a dryer I'm gonna run a little somethin' by you In the battlefield is nothin' like you've ever known Soy el pelon de Houston con fe y corazon Estereo, en serio, Houston hasta Mexico Cortalo, vendelo, SPM dejalo Vato es maton, con su homey Low G. Flores Juan Gotti bring dolores y casa's de millones Y Fiero, en este juego, necesitas huevos Mi treinta y ocho, you no te quiero Puro AK-cuarenta-siete, you vete Tu vas pa tras y dile que te respete Cuando sales tengo jales en muchas partes Te doy coca y cuetes que son cuates Como mi ruka, maria juana, no hay otra Fumando me llamo Rolando Mota. [Chorus:] Everytime the wind blows I reach for my heat Peace to Sambo & my homey Pistol Pete I'm from the South East but got love for the North & these are just the Diaries that SPM wrote. Every time the wind blows I reach for my heat. & these are just the Diaries that SPM wrote. & these are just the Diaries that SPM wrote. & these are just the Diaries that SPM wrote.