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Viewing Lyrics for H Town G Funk:

Artist:South Park Mexican
Taken from the album Hillwood by South Park Mexican
Album:Hillwood
Track:H Town G Funk
 
Date Added:27/04/2015
Rating:not yet rated     
Views:3
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Lyrics:[First Verse]
My sweet Lac fall back just creepin' on three wheels
A b--ch to my right
c--ked giving me cheap thrills
I see meals, coming down my path
In the ghetto cat's
wrath making math
I'm the last to blast, on that aaa now you the past
It's no joke you
get smoked like buddah grass
Who the fastest punk em' like cashes
And when I crash this
you catch whiplashes
b--ch I'm on a mission to listen and give descriptions
Hung G's in
my hood in their intentions
I hear gunshots ringing like hell's bells
I see drug sells
check out my thug tales
f--k jails, bank swells keeps hella grip
And I can sell dope on
ice, and never slip
They serving Kibbles N' Bits while I'm cooking bricks
Save my crumbs
for the ones who s--king d--ks
I made it rich on the ditch you quick snap
I left that
cut now they wonder where the brick's at
My green s--t stacks, still clip packs

Thirty-six lead homies so don't trip jack
It's the wet back hitting on the bongs

Son in the long run, I'll be the strong one.

Chorus: (4X)
If you step in
my hood b--ch you will get blasted
It's nothin but that h-town g-funk

(Yeah this
is for all them hustlers in Hillwood, South Park. Huh.)

[Second Verse]
I told yah,
boy you must have caught amnesia
Trying to jack now you're on your back breathing anastesia

You got blasted cuz you trespassed it
They never lasted, in the game I mastered

You stupid bastard, tell me what's your final word
Before I let this lead tip hit your
spinal cord
Oh you was ready just begging to gank me
Now your aaa is just dead and
stanky
I put my foot in your s--t like the hokey pokey
Leave the scene, now everything's
okie dokie
Your homies know me, but they won't f--k with this
Cuz now they know that I
could show buck a b--ch
I'm the macker plus the gun packer
So you little jackers best
stick to crackers
Cuz f--king with this mex gets your neck broke
Stuck like chuck
straight f--ked and in check Loc
Cuz I think fast when I'm in the slow lane
Get in my
domain and fall back with no brain
So dont raid, or try to rain on my parade
Cuz i'm
strapped from my blade, to my grenade.

Chorus

[Third Verse]
My sweet
Texas, restless, wanting to ride Lexus
Check this or flex this, I get wreckless

Unbelievable lyrical synical
Here we go mary go round I down critical
Street
stamina dammin' a cop
Slammin' a punk, and jam in my funk
I'm the man with the skill
foreal
Guard my grill with steel, on Sundays I kneel
On my knees to Jesus, please seize
us
Cuz my boy's in trouble, and he needs us
Got a bat, my homie's on the double

Punks want trouble, I bam bam rubble
Still the son of a gun having big fun
Come
and get some, I leave you wet mon
Fill your lead with an infared
I put the best to bed,
they call him dead f--king fred
Shed my skin like a snake on a vine
Climbing on the
crime side, coming around the blind side
We fall in ranks like a motherf--king pyramid

And I'm the top block will I stop never did
Make you pass the 9th grade, but got life
made
Chose that dope and I hope I picked the right trade.

Chorus
 


More South Park Mexican Lyrics:

1.   Hillwood Hustlaz  view
2.   Boys On Da Cut  view
3.   Watch the Block Bleed  view
4.   Cool Enough  view
5.   Throw Away Gats  view
6.   West Coast Gulf Coast East Coast  view
7.   El Jugador  view
8.   Hillwood  view
9.   Dallas To Houston  view
10.   Skit  view
11.   Medicine  view
12.   Stay On Your Grind  view

Related Lyrics:
dolly_parton_home_is_where_the_hurt_is

HOME IS WHERE THE HURT IS
Writers Marge Barton, Johnny McRae
Copyright 1965


We're well known in every honky tonk in town
Not a night goes by that we don't make the
rounds
People wonder why we choose to live this way
Why don't they ever stay at home I
hear them say
But home is where the hurt is cause love doesn't live there anymore
Home is
where the hurt is that's why we don't stay at home much anymore
What was once our happy home
has come to be
A place to fuss and fight and disagree
Our lonely house with wall to all
regret
And these bright lights somehow help us to forget
Cause home is where the hurt
is...
That's why we don't stay at home much anymore

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