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South Park Mexican Time is Money You Know My Name (Remix) Thanks to Detreceiver2g@aol.com for these lyrics. f/ Ayana M. Chorus (Ayana M.): S P M South Park Mexican First Verse: I'm SPM, you know my name I'm the one that came up but never changed I make my moves, life is what you choose I'm the one to smoke in different high schools Stay off the streets, home boy you'll never win You're goin' two places: the graveyard or the pen Contradictions on my chest, lots of lipstick on my clothes Can we ever be stopped? Only God knows South Park sunny side, I roll with the realest Represent my area from Hillwood to the village At the grocery store they used to look over my shoulder And saw a basket full of Arm & Hammer baking soda Conversation rules the nation, but in my hood Talk is cheaper than a piece of old, wet plywood You boys is more phonier than cubic zerconia Make you suckas pay the very day I get a hold of ya My name is.... Chorus (2x) Second Verse: Pass the greenery, tweedle lee, tweedle la Layin' in my spa, takin' off my Heina's bra Me and the law, had problems in the past They smelled my grass, but could never find my stash Who can it be? It's that boy Los I broke up with my chick, cuz my cash went up her nose I tell ya what it was, and I tell ya what it is There's ten year old men, and fifty year old kids My flow is legendary, on the third of February I wrote this song at the old cemetary I did my time, no sunshine They must be gettin' bonuses for lockin' up my kind My name is.... Chorus (4x) [SPM talking over chorus] You seen me and didn't believe me, now look The World is listenin', the movement is here, the day is here. We ain't stoppin' homie! We just gettin' started! I see you jealous, hateful people wishin' the worst for us You'll pay like the last ones did! You'll pay for my freedom! We'll never be the same! You'll never catch up! I fight hate with love! Third Verse: When I was young I used to be a shoe shiner And work for a dime as a newspaper part-timer Every now and then my real Dad would come around Born and raised in Houston, a.k.a. Hustletown My drop is on jock, and my game is on lock My attic full of automatic weapons of assualt The streets live in us, I think I broke a guinness Last year I took the record robbin' forty dealers Dancin' with the wolves, man, my hood is jet black But they had love for the only back I got a sauna in my eighty foot bus We don't chase paper, paper chase us You know my name.... Chorus (4x) |
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