Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Hillwood Hustlaz II, artist - SPM. Date of issue: 11.12.2000
Song language: English
Hillwood Hustlaz II |
| Chorus: South Park Mexican |
| Hillwood, hustlers |
| You can’t, see us |
| We run, Houston |
| Thousands, of tons |
| I’ll take my gun, and make you run |
| Cause it really don’t make me numb |
| Slip through the hood, dope, I cook |
| Deliver my life the best I could |
| Robin Hood, youngest crook |
| Here they come now, watch, y’all look |
| Go by the book, charge, I shook |
| It’s that Mexican, dance with wolves |
| Swimmin' pools, we some fools |
| Diamonds and them ruby jewels |
| Makin' moves, gator shoes |
| Just last week, I made the news |
| They accused, but I won’t lose |
| Momma’s happy, daddy’s cool |
| What about you, what do you do |
| If you young, stay in school |
| We stay true, Dope House crew |
| Smokin' yabba-dabba-doo |
| Jammin' Screw, we brand new |
| Followin' up this plan I drew |
| SP Mex, bubble jet |
| Countin' dollars and them cents |
| Kick your door down and have you |
| Tryin' to jump your own fence |
| Tryin' to jump your own fence |
| Have you tryin' to jump your own fence |
| Jump your own fence |
| Repeat Chorus |
| You haters ain’t no friend of mine |
| Boys, don’t wanna let me shine |
| But that’s all fine, take in mine |
| Bust a rhyme, like a nine |
| How many times do I have to tell y’all |
| All my life, I’ve been called a failure |
| Write my friends, in the pen |
| «Are y’all gettin' these letters I mailed ya» |
| Rock and roll, optimals |
| Then go eat at Poppa Dough’s |
| So many hoes in the club |
| Pull my cash and buy them all a rose |
| '84, story goes |
| On about that boy Carlos |
| Sippin' fours, hittin' dro |
| But never put nothin' up my nose |
| Body froze, casket closed |
| Nightmares of the life I chose |
| Try my dope and overdose |
| Suckin' up my killer flow |
| Freestyle pro, (???) |
| Silky socks and matchin' clothes |
| Momma told me, «Life was like ballet |
| You gotta stay on your toes» |
| Crackin' jokes, spin a spoke |
| Silly question, do I smoke |
| Breakfast, milk and Quaker Oats |
| Eighty thousand dollar boat |
| Better not puff, better not pout |
| SPM is in your town |
| El Coyote in el monte |
| A.K. |
| Senor Charlie Brown |
| Repeat Chorus |
| (Spoken Verse) |
| The barbarian |
| Look where we buried him |
| In the hole, right next to the librarian |
| I married in |
| To the very end |
| Have your kids |
| Askin', «Daddy |
| Who were those scary men» |
| Make a stripper bitch |
| Wanna be my fuckin' wife |
| She told me |
| This the biggest tip I ever got in my life |
| Nothin' can save us, starched up Ben Davis |
| Sellin' dope |
| To my coked out neighbors |
| First full trip and let my clip get to rippin' |
| Blood drippin' out his shit, tryin' to run, but he limpin' |
| I come from the slums, survived on crumbs |
| I live like a man |
| And I’m a die like one |
| Repeat Chorus Twice |