South Park Mexican - "Latin Throne" lyrics
*** Complimentary Latin Throne Ringtone ***
(South Park Mexican:)
Uh
One time baby, yeah
Ain't no stoppin' this movement
Gotta roll with it
(South Park Mexican:)
Land of dum dum
Is where I come from
Believe me when I tell you
That you don't want none son
A long, hard road for this, latin throne
You can catch me in the club in the, back alone
So, Mama's don't let your babies
Grow to be gangstas
Killas taught to not give a f***
Hit 'em up with sign language
Reach for the stainless
Leave 'em brainless,
I'm just explainin' how the game is
The strangest of things
Come to me at no surprise,
F*** pea shooters,
All my gats are supersized
Utilized all my allies
I run with bad guys,
I got seven dopehouses
That's a franchise
Man cries if he was blessed with a heart,
But I lost mine
In the backstreets of South Park
Once again it's Mister SPM
And the sh*t ain't gonna stop
Until I'm dead or in the pen
CHORUS:
(Marilyn Rylander:)
He's a hustler
He's a baller
He sits on the
Latin throne
He's a hustler
He's a baller
He sits on the
Latin throne
(South Park Mexican:)
We shootin' stars
Runnin' from cop cars
I got scars jumpin' metal gates
Uh
One time baby, yeah
Ain't no stoppin' this movement
Gotta roll with it
(South Park Mexican:)
Land of dum dum
Is where I come from
Believe me when I tell you
That you don't want none son
A long, hard road for this, latin throne
You can catch me in the club in the, back alone
So, Mama's don't let your babies
Grow to be gangstas
Killas taught to not give a f***
Hit 'em up with sign language
Reach for the stainless
Leave 'em brainless,
I'm just explainin' how the game is
The strangest of things
Come to me at no surprise,
F*** pea shooters,
All my gats are supersized
Utilized all my allies
I run with bad guys,
I got seven dopehouses
That's a franchise
Man cries if he was blessed with a heart,
But I lost mine
In the backstreets of South Park
Once again it's Mister SPM
And the sh*t ain't gonna stop
Until I'm dead or in the pen
CHORUS:
(Marilyn Rylander:)
He's a hustler
He's a baller
He sits on the
Latin throne
He's a hustler
He's a baller
He sits on the
Latin throne
(South Park Mexican:)
We shootin' stars
Runnin' from cop cars
I got scars jumpin' metal gates
And sharp bars
The hood is ours
Save my pennies in a pickle jar
Everyday you see me
In a different crackhead's car
So bizarre how so many bullets
Miss my head,
I told my Mom, that I'm gonna
Stick with this instead
F*** the crack rock
I rapped and hit the jackpot
Now I'm on a plane writin' on my laptop
It's all wiggy rockin' city to city
But I still feel my past catchin' up with me
Got more ends, bought my Mom a Gold Benz,
But she worry 'cause I still got all my old friends
Hopin' that I slow up and change one day,
But these Hillwood streets
Hot me raised one way
I told my lady one day we gone be like the Brady's
But for now I teach her
How to use this three eighty
Repeat chorus
(South Park Mexican:)
Three years and countin'
I've been drinkin' from the music fountain
The Dopehouse sits in Houston
Like a f***in' mountain,
Who you doubtin''
This round is comin' out the South
I got non-believers
With they foot in they mouth
I break guinesses,
Keep 'em off my premises,
Used to be menaces
Now our dreams limitless
Isn't this a trip'
Not a slipper or a sleeper,
Niggas wantin' dope still hittin' up my beeper
But we can overcome
The ghetto even G's without a mother,
Bread without butter, I came crawlin' out a gutter
Born hustler, used to drive an old gas guzzler,
Fresh out the hood I was sellin' dope last summer
Servin' zombies, a following as big as Gandhi's,
Now I'm donkey dickin' Brunettes and Blondies
Jammin' Jon B. with bottles of Don P.
The day of the Wetback has striked upon thee
Repeat chorus
The hood is ours
Save my pennies in a pickle jar
Everyday you see me
In a different crackhead's car
So bizarre how so many bullets
Miss my head,
I told my Mom, that I'm gonna
Stick with this instead
F*** the crack rock
I rapped and hit the jackpot
Now I'm on a plane writin' on my laptop
It's all wiggy rockin' city to city
But I still feel my past catchin' up with me
Got more ends, bought my Mom a Gold Benz,
But she worry 'cause I still got all my old friends
Hopin' that I slow up and change one day,
But these Hillwood streets
Hot me raised one way
I told my lady one day we gone be like the Brady's
But for now I teach her
How to use this three eighty
Repeat chorus
(South Park Mexican:)
Three years and countin'
I've been drinkin' from the music fountain
The Dopehouse sits in Houston
Like a f***in' mountain,
Who you doubtin''
This round is comin' out the South
I got non-believers
With they foot in they mouth
I break guinesses,
Keep 'em off my premises,
Used to be menaces
Now our dreams limitless
Isn't this a trip'
Not a slipper or a sleeper,
Niggas wantin' dope still hittin' up my beeper
But we can overcome
The ghetto even G's without a mother,
Bread without butter, I came crawlin' out a gutter
Born hustler, used to drive an old gas guzzler,
Fresh out the hood I was sellin' dope last summer
Servin' zombies, a following as big as Gandhi's,
Now I'm donkey dickin' Brunettes and Blondies
Jammin' Jon B. with bottles of Don P.
The day of the Wetback has striked upon thee
Repeat chorus
*** Complimentary Latin Throne Ringtone ***
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