Artist/Band:
South Park Mexican
Lyrics for Song: Hustle Town
Lyrics for Album: Hustle Town [1998]
Hustle town, my city man.
Born, and raised baby.
Yo, I dedicate this jam to all the single mother's.
Raising men in a big city, I know it's hard.
Let 'em know what's up, Fileddo.
I sell drugs with thugs, hittin' licks off tricks.
Working two jobs, a dope dealer and a pimp.
Mom beggin' me to stop, everyday.
So scared for me to walk Memorie Lane.
But mom, don't worry. My tech protect well.
I told ya'll one day this rap shit gonna sell.
Cause 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 doors.
And if I kill, well thats just how the shit goes.
Pull your strap. What, am I supposed to sweat?
This the third time today I come close to death.
*chorous*
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.
(x2)
Set 'em up, wet 'em up, etc.
Tell your treasura, empty the regista
Shit serious, I give your life a period.
Well here he is, it's the kid with experience.
Don't start shit. Mistake me for an artist.
Flash in the dark, someone tell him where his heart is.
Good life would die tonight maybe over two dice
maybe cuz he blew fried
on top yall with that hillwood mafia hard hittin hustlas beat the draws
of a ya.
Knowledge all my shit to be flawless.
Dope House Records Step into my office.
*chorous*
Still pourin loco, know wat im talkin about? yea, represent that H-Town
Wit my boy Spm Homes, I' ve noticed theirs alot of frauds out there,, know what im sayin
What you think about these fraud ass niggas los?
you jackin jaws, Im packin balls, Spark em Spliff, i get more gift than
Santa Claus, put for cold forty once an a sack a hay, chug a lug for the thugs
who don pass away
Mista masticle mistacle mexican maniac, competition?
you muthafukas make laugh
yous a bitch if you hating on my houston hits
fight devils like you with a crucafix,
shoot the shit
with a shotty, shake your body
Gun Kung Fu, mixed with A-K Karake
Im Sorry, but you the past like Atari
Yes i smoke like marley, stay brown like charlie
*chorous*
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