SPM (South Park Mexican) - Dope Game Official Song From SPM Album The Purity Album Dope House Records\r
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Check one, check two, lets take a cruise\r
I done did the game every which way but loose\r
Nothing left to do except collect my cash\r
And I bet that ass that the Mex gon last\r
Put the past on paper, threw away my pager\r
Cuz these boys keep callin from locs to cookie baker\r
Mama saved em from the hate, now Im hard with the pain\r
Im in the place in your face tryin to sell you a tape\r
I break records in Texas creepin in Caddies and Benzes\r
And a pretender if he step up to the bullet bartender\r
I bet I check and wreck a sucker riding bumper to bumper\r
I might dump the whole clip and miss and hit your uncle\r
I aint trippin, flippin, sippin on purple Lipton\r
Diggin women in the drop lemon, g livin\r
I was driven to my last nerve, hittin curbs\r
Puttin twenties on a grass hurst\r
End of verse\r
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[Chorus x2]\r
No shame\r
Welcome to the dope game\r
This is were we dont play\r
Leave your boys with no brains\r
Whoridas\r
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I remember long ago I never got no love\r
Still I knew that one day Id be popular\r
I used to stand in the circle trying to smoke your bud\r
Just hopin that the blunt wouldnt pass me up\r
I used to ask for a sip of your syrup\r
I used to never walk around with the white cup\r
Now I eat eighteen steaks, on silver plates\r
Girls fanin my face, others give me grapes\r
By the grace of God, I was given the job\r
To run through the rap game like corn on the cob\r
So blessed in my test, I bought my sets in the southwest\r
I aint got no credit cards except Mexican Express\r
Ima dress my baby girl and rock the whole damn world\r
If you needs tracks Happy P got my referal\r
Your head twirl to the sounds of the SP Mex\r
Ridin in the Lex with a dog named Plex\r
Southside to the north, at the old golf course\r
The valet the white Porsche with the bulletproof doors\r
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[Chorus x2]\r
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Its the L-O-S C-O-Y\r
Pack the pistola, oh me oh my\r
My nina shine like the sun, I never ask for a crumb\r
For breakfast my chef makes me eggs-fuyon\r
Ive come from the hills of ghetto thrills and chills\r
Three wheelin, dope dealin, killin nothin but squeels\r
My third wish was to break this curse and myth\r
Now Im worldwide status on your satilite dish\r
Punk checker, chump wrecker, got the salt and the pepper\r
Left a mark in the game and never been a half stepper\r
Leopard skin on my couch, be like Oscar the Grouch\r
From the streets, pullin rocks out my kangaroo pouch\r
But I told these boys, never at my house\r
Whether its the ounce that puts leather on my couch\r
A thousand dollars a week, my baby girls allowance\r
Dope House bouncin cash to my forgein accounts\r
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[Chorus x2]