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