South Park Mexican (SPM) Dope Game Lyrics

Check one, check two, lets take a cruise
I done did the game every which way but loose
Nothing left to do except collect my cash
And I bet that a__ that the mex gon last
Put the past on paper, threw away my pager
Cuz these boys keep callin from locs to cookie baker
Mama saved em from the hate, now Im hard with the pain
Im in the place in your face tryin to sell you a tape
I break records in texas creepin in caddies and benzes
And a pretender if he step up to the bullet bartender
I bet I check and wreck a sucker riding b__per to b__per
I might dump the whole clip and miss and hit your uncle
I aint trippin, flippin, sippin on purple lipton
Diggin women in the drop lemon, g livin
I was driven to my last nerve, hittin curbs
Puttin twenties on a grass hurst
End of verse

[chorus x2]
No shame
Welcome to the dope game
This is were we dont play
Leave your boys with no brains
Whoridas

I remember long ago I never got no love
Still I knew that one day Id be popular
I used to stand in the circle trying to smoke your bud
Just hopin that the blunt wouldnt pass me up
I used to ask for a sip of your syrup
I used to never walk around with the white cup
Now I eat eighteen steaks, on silver plates
Girls fanin my face, others give me grapes
By the grace of god, I was given the job
To run through the rap game like corn on the cob
So blessed in my test, I bought my sets in the southwest
I aint got no credit cards except mexican express
Ima dress my baby girl and rock the whole d___ world
If you needs tracks happy p got my referal
Your head twirl to the sounds of the sp mex
Ridin in the lex with a dog named plex
Southside to the north, at the old golf course
The valet the white porsche with the bulletproof doors

[chorus x2]

Its the l-o-s c-o-y
Pack the pistola, oh me oh my
My nina shine like the sun, I never ask for a crumb
For breakfast my chef makes me eggs-fuyon
Ive come from the hills of ghetto thrills and chills
Three wheelin, dope dealin, killin nothin but squeels
My third wish was to break this curse and myth
Now Im worldwide status on your satilite dish
Punk checker, chump wrecker, got the salt and the pepper
Left a mark in the game and never been a half stepper
Leopard skin on my couch, be like oscar the grouch
From the streets, pullin rocks out my kangaroo pouch
But I told these boys, never at my house
Whether its the ounce that puts leather on my couch
A thousand dollars a week, my baby girls allowance
Dope house bouncin cash to my forgein accounts

[chorus x2]