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Correct Screens Falling Lyrics
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South Park Mexican
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Correct Screens Falling
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Lyrics:
[Chorus: Ayana] Screens falling from the sky Boys swingin' all those low pro fo's We sunny side, for life Candy on my '4, I'm so throwed [Verse 1: SPM] It feel good givin back to the hood I'm tryin to make up for all the dope I cook And for all the dope fiends I woop Remember my first gun? I almost shot my foot Surrounded by crackheads, I would wonder? Will a nigga ever make it out this gutter? Cops would come, all of us would run It was nine of us, they couldnt catch one Good old days, I wont forget While I write on this laptop in this jet With the Universal Records President And they say everything I do I'm the first mexican Aint no love and aint no peace, bro My 12 gauge shotty will make Your chest look like a pizza Things I do, I'm a goddamn fool I'm puttin seventeen strip dancers all through school [Chorus] [Verse 2: Coast] And you can find me in a parkin lot Parkin a drop, hop in the X5 That's my, SUV, yes ma Next time I pull up and Some of that old crazy shit I will roll down my windows and got Seven inches for the radius Maybe it's the attention that I'm gettin When they spinnin, or maybe It's the liqour that I'm sippin And got me feelin like I can't be taken lightly Cause I been poppin pills So you aint gon' like me I might distributing llello Put you on my payroll Supply with a bird But you don't move it till I say so Make sure you don't take No money out from under me Cause I'm the type of player That's gonna run up in your company Don't trust me, cuz I never sober Usually I'm gone off for that Pink or Purple soda You better move over I'm not far from vomiting Los and Coast's the shit But still that diet aint no stoppin him [Chorus] [Verse 3: SPM] I don't give a fuck, cuz We some hustlaz, friends we once was Now I once blood, scratchin on my six That's somethin that a bitch'll do I'll bet you squat down everytime Everytime you piss out brew Tomahawk, show these niggas your tattoo While we bang screw, Erykah Badu Knock knock, pop trunk on the boulevarde How the fuck you gon' act like you pussies hard? Once again, S-P Man, true killer Fuck talkin bitch, show me what to do nigga Representer, bow before you enter There's a reward for a man that can find my temper Sick and tired of you jealous-ass bitches Send you to hell and you can call me long distance Don't't run your mouth homeboy, you aint deep enough Get on your phone and go and call some more people up [Chorus]
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