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