Back to the previous page

Artist: South Park Mexican f/ A.C. Chill, L.T.
Album:  Power Moves: The Table
Song:   Ghetto Tales
Typed by:,

[South Park Mexican]
SPM, baby (Phat Money Records)
Puttin' it down with that Phat Money Records (Dope House Records)
Phat Stacks (A.C. Chill, L.T.)
This one's Ghetto Tales
What you know about that

Chorus: South Park Mexican
These are the tales, the Ghetto Tales
Dope sales and life is hell
Tryin' to stay out of jail
These are the tales, the Ghetto Tales
Dope sales and life is hell
Tryin' to stay out of jail

[Verse 1: A.C. Chill]
I'm rollin' H-town, South Park back streets
A.C. Chill, all the O.G.'s know me
In the 'Burban with the candy paint, four deep
Most of my niggas ain't got no car, that's why we so deep
We left a funeral, to see my homie's momma cry
It always hurt me
When any of my homies die
All of a sudden
Gun shots rang out
I guess these young G's plexin' gang bang clout
We pulled over, I said, "Let me out this bitch, mayne"
One of these niggas fin to get they wig split, mayne
Pulled out my strap
You know how the show goes
Somebody yelled out, "Hey yo, here come the po-pos"
I told my niggas
"Yo man, I'll catch you later"
Got a pocket full of weed, plus they got me on paper
Bailed around the corner
To holla at my homie
Next thing you know, the fuckin' haters roll up on me
Damn, how much hating can a young nigga take
First chance I get, a motherfucker fin to break
They caught me
Now I'm in the jail cell pacin'
Damn, a violation, eighteen months is what I'm facin'

Repeat Chorus

[Verse 2: L.T.]
I'm pushin' weight, tryin' to have it, everything is flat
But at the same time, I'm leaving niggas on they back
Up in the neighborhood, I'm tryin' to stack a little cream
I'm paper chasin', me and T, we tryin' to stack some green
And everything is far as bad when it comes to drama
I'm tryin' to make a little cash for
Me, Jay, and momma
Ain't payin' no bills, but these niggas got me fucked up
I rather sit on streets than see my ass locked up
And servin' fiends is an everyday life thang
And from the cells chillin', tryin' to have a nice day
And for this 4:20 East Tex life thang
I got the skills to hit a nigga from Big Mar, mayne
And platinum shit
We gon' drop, on the block of D
Come watch my tongue twist, wreckin' with my boy C
Tryin' to survive, make a meal with the ghetto dream
We player made, plus we from the heart of S.E.

Repeat Chorus

[Verse 3: South Park Mexican]
SPM baby sittin' dope fiends at the dead end
Fightin' over sales with my motherfuckin' best friend
Used to be broke and assed out
Now I buy diamonds
To make my wife pass out, bad route
Was a path I chose, blastin' hoes
At last, I rose, I got cash and clothes
From the crack I sold, to let you bastards know
Stackin' dough
Sittin' on glass and Vogues
My ass gon' show
I'm a straight out the slums
South Park, where you get your car washed for crumbs
But these laws is on a cookout, I ain't to get took out
Three dollar pieces for my look out
Licensed cookie baker
That's my profession
Never have my dope in my own, possession
Niggas sellin' cocaine in my domain
I sneak up from the back and take you out, with no pain

Repeat Chorus