South Park Mexican Hustle Town lyrics

Hustle Town by South Park Mexican

Hustle Town lyrics

[SPM talking] 
Eh he he he he 
Hustle Town my city maan! 
Born and raised baby 
Yo I dedicate this jam to all the single mothers 
Raisin' men in a big city 
I know it's hard 
Let 'em know what's up Filero 

[Verse 1: Filero] 
I sell drugs with thugs 
Hittin' licks off tricks 
Workin' two jobs a dope deala and a pimp 
Mom's beggin' me to stop everyday 
So scared for me to walkâ?¦. Memory lane 
But Mom don't worry my teck protect well 
I told ya one day this rap shit gone sell 
But my heart been broke from the start 
Since the day my father died when I was seven in the park 
So I wrote the book 
How to pimp hoes and kick do's 
And if I kill well than that's just how the shit go 
Pull yo strap 
What am I supposed to sweat 
This the third time today that I come close to death 

[Chorus: SPM] 
Hustle Town Hustle Town 
The city of dreams 
Where we creep through the hood 
And we serve them dope fiends 
Hustle Town 
The shit don't stop 
Roll rental cars 
And we keep the glock cocked 
Hustle Town 
The city of dreams 
Where we creep through the hood 
And we serve them dope fiends 
Hustle Town 
The shit don't stop 
Roll rental cars 
And we keep the glock cocked 

[Verse 2: SPM] 
Set 'em up 
Wet 'em up 
Etceteras 
Tell ya treasura 
Empty the regista 
Shit serious 
I'll give ya life a period 
Well here he is 
The kid with experience 
Don't start shit 
Mistake me for an artist 
Flash in the dark 
Someone tell 'em where his heart is 
Blue light 
Who die? 
Tonight 
Maybe over two dice 
Maybe cause he blew fry 
On top of ya 
With the Hillwood Mafia 
Hard hittin' hustlas 
Beat the draws off of ya 
Knowledge 
While my shit be flawless 
Dope House Records step into my office 

[Chorus: SPM] 

[Lord Loco talking] 
It's ya boy Lord Loco 
Know what I'm talkin' bout 
Representin' that H-Town wit my boy SPM 
There's a lot of frauds out there know what I'm sayin' 
What you think 'bout them fraud ass niggas Los? 

[Verse 3: SPM] 
Jackin' jaws 
I'm packin' balls 
Smoke and split 
I give mo' gifts than Santa Clause 
Wit a cold forty-ounce and a sack of hay 
Chug a lug for the thugs who done passed away 
Mista da Masta Mystical Mexican Maniac 
Competition ha ha 
You muthafuckas make me laugh 
You a bitch if you hatin' on my Houston hits 
I fight devils like you wit a crucifix 
Ruthless shit 
With a shotty 
Take ya body 
Gun Kung Fu 
Mixed wit AK Karate 
I'm sorry but you the past like Atari 
As I smoke like Marley 
Stay Brown like Charlie 

[Chorus: SPM]