| I was raised on beans and rice
|
| And if you shot up my crib I wouldn’t be surprised
|
| Mama used to trip cuz I fed the mice
|
| I’m the one they sent home cuz my head had lice
|
| I’m the kid that lost my sanity
|
| I’m the kid that had the toys with no batteries
|
| Mama sat me down for some serious talks
|
| On how to keep the rats out the cereal box
|
| I feel you homie nigga I lived that shit nigga I felt that shit
|
| We never felt so rich those were the good ass days bro
|
| Sure we was broke but we was b-b guns havin' hella fun on natural dope
|
| When you started to smoke that’s when you changed
|
| The weed hit the brain and the man thought he came
|
| It was joint, after joint, after joint, after joint
|
| In one month your fuckin' brain was destroyed
|
| Now you got children and a beautiful wife
|
| The kinda money that you make nigga you set for life
|
| Enjoy your self man you only live once
|
| Take your family vacation and relax for a month
|
| I’mma smoke 'till I croak nigga fuck bein' broke nigga
|
| I need seven bedrooms and my boat nigga
|
| Watchin' rats with eighty seven new gats
|
| The penitantary’s the only place when I can relax
|
| I want some hoes in they heads they pushin' me to the edge
|
| The only thing I’mma miss is my beautiful kids
|
| I’m just sippin' Patron I handle shit on my own
|
| I got a camera
|
| For every fuckin' inch of my home
|
| It’s in my blood to be a drunk and not give a fuck
|
| I do a drive-by in my grandmas truck
|
| A G since daddy left me at the age of three
|
| Now, every South Side crack-head pagin' me
|
| Chill homie cut dad some slack
|
| Sure he left our ass but that was way the fuck back
|
| You all cot up hearin' blastin' on dub
|
| We was only seven when our house got shot up
|
| Mom was all bloody I saw that shit
|
| It was just blast from the mirror it’s alright kid
|
| You blessed by God man you can’t give up
|
| And run around town not givin' a fuck
|
| Yeah of course they jealous and pullin' ho shit
|
| It’s hard to be that Mexican that came up so quick
|
| You made it look easy but It’s just an illusion
|
| You did the impossible and took over Houston
|
| Now, everybody thinks they can do like you
|
| Losin' thousands and thousands on a half ass crew
|
| Talkin' down on you but you got nothing to prove
|
| Let 'em run they mouth all the fuck they want to
|
| Mutha fuck you nigga stop preachin' n’shit
|
| I grab my mutha fuckin' Glock and start squeezin' my shit
|
| No mercy for the weak bitch so save yo' speech bitch
|
| You can’t reach I’m too deep in these streets bitch
|
| Don’t piss me off I’ll put this gat to yo' head
|
| Can’t you see these jealous bitches pray for us to be dead
|
| You gettin' soft now? |
| You must wanna die too
|
| All it takes is one bullet to kill me and you
|
| Damn dawg, you hear that gun shot?
|
| Soundin' like it came from SPM’s room! |
| Lets go check it out!
|
| All my people fight da evil
|
| Some sniff paint and some shoot needle
|
| Some take shots with salt and lemon get fucked up and beat they women
|
| All the children need someone to show them they can be someone
|
| Mad at me cuz I came up, I don’t understand what y’all want
|
| Say, Los, check this out, man
|
| What up, SPM?
|
| Say, let’s just smoke and joint, man and try to work this thing out
|
| Well, we could smoke a joint, I dunno about all that other shit
|
| Ha-ha |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Spm vs. Los, artist - SPM. Album song Best of the Best, Vol. 3, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп