Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Spm Diaries, artist - SPM. Album song Best of the Best, Vol. 3, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 27.04.2010
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Dope House
Song language: English
Spm Diaries |
Whats the deal man, we back in this camp |
I’m doing this right here off the shot of coffee my boy Flaco gave me you heard. |
Creasin' my pants as I dance with the devil |
I used to ride a bike that only had one pedal |
No nike kicks, broke than a bitch |
I started comin' up sellin' fat ass nicks |
I’mma flip it like a script at the (?) |
Thats my lil' spot, 8 by 10 cubic |
Nah, I ain’t stupid, never have been |
They locked up they (?) now they all laughin' |
Celebrating life with they kids and they wife |
They wishing I would die as my lil' girl cries |
Always knew that these hoes would be coming for me |
But my comeback’s gone be something to see |
I can’t stand a ho, on a tv show |
They say «I'm Hispanic» or «I'm Latino» |
Bitch you a Mexican, say that shit |
Why the fuck is you acting scared to represent |
Everytime the wind blows I reach for my heat |
Peace to Sam Boone and my homie Pistol Pete |
I’m from the South East but got love for the North |
And these are just the diaries that SPM wrote |
Mr. SP can you spare a few pages |
To write whats on my mind and record a few tapes and |
It’s the Rasheed creepin' in my Batman boat |
My money tripled like the chin on a fatman throat |
But haters could they hate yo voice I was kinda bored |
You know I always be that Dope House spinal cord |
I just been chillin', showin' boys how to wreck screw tapes |
And also how a haters body fits in one suitcase |
I told you once, I use you motherfuckers for lunch |
I pull more stunts than Knievel, bring it in by the tons |
I got guns, I mean I got guns |
I heard you had some heat too, but not much |
I’m the pusha, run 'em like Alaskan huskies |
And still smoke the finest, right by the trust SKS |
Bring it to your chest |
You should know by know, I don’t aim for the legs |
Everybody gather round the fire, blow like a dryer |
I’mma run a lil' something by ya |
In the battlefield theres nothing like you’ve ever known |
Soy el pelon de Houston con fe y corazon |
Estereo, es serio, Houston hasta Mexico |
Cortalo, vendelo, SPM dejalo |
Vato es maton, con su homie Low-G Flores |
Juan Gotti bring dolores y casa de millones |
Y Fiero, en este juego, necesitas huevos |
Mi treinta y ocho, ya no te quiero |
Puro AK-47, ya 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 |
Everytime the wind blows I reach for my heat |
And these are just the diaries that SPM wrote |
And these are just the diaries that SPM wrote |
And these are just the diaries that SPM wrote |