"Cali-Tex Connect" lyrics
(feat. OG Kid Frost)
Come slip into my darkness
Stopless, got rich
Puttin' out the hot hits
With true convicts
Block this studio, three-month blackout
Rap out the bad rout
And those who had doubt
Mad shouts to all my boys at the crack house
Catchin' every sucker who done ran South
Stand proud, but I can't see behingrand crowds
Fresh off the back street, concrete father figure
Niggas shiver when I deliver
Blastin' hollin' "Timber!"
Talk is cheap and most of ya'll a crock of shit
I chop a brick and flip it like the opposite
'Cause all my chickens layin' 36 eggs
Got recruits in black boots that never shoot for the legs
No sunshine, streets in my bloodline
Love's blind, understand my thug mind
From Tex to Cali, every hood, every alley
Smokin' on Smally in my candy-coated Caddy
Bendin' blocks on Goldy Locks
17 shots
Cops, swearin' to God we sellin' rocks
Cops, swearin' to God we sellin' rocks
[Frost:]
I stand in the sunset
Hand on my pistola
Late-night redrum
Lost at Sinaloa
Down on the docks in Diego
Art Lupo in the Lexus
Movin; weight to Houston Texas
Got a chicken
Finger lickin'
And it's all good
Then I hook up South Park Mex
Big green bag of cess
Hoppin' up and down like a Kangaroo
In my sky-blue '62
Now what you wanna do?
We make shit move, like pounds and kis
Ain't nobody who can fuck with these West-Coast Gs
[South Park Mexican:]
What you tell 'em homey? What you tell 'em loco?
[Frost:]
Man ain't nobody who can fuck with these Gulf-Coast Gs
From Tex to Cali, every hood, every alley
Smokin' on Smally in my candy-coated Caddy
Bendin' blocks on Goldy Locks
17 shots
Cops, swearin' to God we sellin' rocks
Cops, swearin' to God we sellin' rocks
[South Park Mexican:]
Hobby airport flight 276
Pick up the homey Frost
Let's get in the mix
Now we up and creased out
Puffin' green Garcia y Vegas
Mackin' to a cheerleader from the Oakland Raiders
Yo Frost, peep game. Check the silicone titties
[Frost:]
Yeah homes. Man they remind me of the ones in my city
'Cause I've been around the world
All kinds of girls
I'm a little John Gotti
Duke duke of Earl
ShyTown, Atlantic City
Vegas and Reno
We Latino Gambinos
And we breakin' casinos
[South Park Mexican:]
It's the SPM, A.K.A. Caro Quintero
Just me and my perros
Flyin' through the ghetto
With 7 pounds of fierro
El Mero Mero
Puttin' down with that hazel-eyed Guero
[Frost:]
Man orrayos, flippin' gallos, hittin' hydros
I'm the one that's got 'em floatin' in them bayous
SPM, are you with it?
[South Park Mexican:]
La neta
Dos vatos viviendo la vida chueca
Dos vatos, Poco Locos
Pachando sospichosos
Asi trabaja, ese juego
Mi palabra es todo lo que tengo
En el monté, El Coyoté
Con los ojos que miran en la noche
Me and Lil' John Gotti, rockin' 80
From Tex to Cali, every hood, every alley
Smokin' on Smally in my candy-coated Caddy
Bendin' blocks on Goldy Locks
17 shots
Cops, swearin' to God we sellin' rocks
Cops, swearin' to God we sellin' rocks
Stopless, got rich
Puttin' out the hot hits
With true convicts
Block this studio, three-month blackout
Rap out the bad rout
And those who had doubt
Mad shouts to all my boys at the crack house
Catchin' every sucker who done ran South
Stand proud, but I can't see behingrand crowds
Fresh off the back street, concrete father figure
Niggas shiver when I deliver
Blastin' hollin' "Timber!"
Talk is cheap and most of ya'll a crock of shit
I chop a brick and flip it like the opposite
'Cause all my chickens layin' 36 eggs
Got recruits in black boots that never shoot for the legs
No sunshine, streets in my bloodline
Love's blind, understand my thug mind
From Tex to Cali, every hood, every alley
Smokin' on Smally in my candy-coated Caddy
Bendin' blocks on Goldy Locks
17 shots
Cops, swearin' to God we sellin' rocks
Cops, swearin' to God we sellin' rocks
[Frost:]
I stand in the sunset
Hand on my pistola
Late-night redrum
Lost at Sinaloa
Down on the docks in Diego
Art Lupo in the Lexus
Movin; weight to Houston Texas
Got a chicken
Finger lickin'
And it's all good
Then I hook up South Park Mex
Big green bag of cess
Hoppin' up and down like a Kangaroo
In my sky-blue '62
Now what you wanna do?
We make shit move, like pounds and kis
Ain't nobody who can fuck with these West-Coast Gs
[South Park Mexican:]
What you tell 'em homey? What you tell 'em loco?
[Frost:]
Man ain't nobody who can fuck with these Gulf-Coast Gs
From Tex to Cali, every hood, every alley
Smokin' on Smally in my candy-coated Caddy
Bendin' blocks on Goldy Locks
17 shots
Cops, swearin' to God we sellin' rocks
Cops, swearin' to God we sellin' rocks
[South Park Mexican:]
Hobby airport flight 276
Pick up the homey Frost
Let's get in the mix
Now we up and creased out
Puffin' green Garcia y Vegas
Mackin' to a cheerleader from the Oakland Raiders
Yo Frost, peep game. Check the silicone titties
[Frost:]
Yeah homes. Man they remind me of the ones in my city
'Cause I've been around the world
All kinds of girls
I'm a little John Gotti
Duke duke of Earl
ShyTown, Atlantic City
Vegas and Reno
We Latino Gambinos
And we breakin' casinos
[South Park Mexican:]
It's the SPM, A.K.A. Caro Quintero
Just me and my perros
Flyin' through the ghetto
With 7 pounds of fierro
El Mero Mero
Puttin' down with that hazel-eyed Guero
[Frost:]
Man orrayos, flippin' gallos, hittin' hydros
I'm the one that's got 'em floatin' in them bayous
SPM, are you with it?
[South Park Mexican:]
La neta
Dos vatos viviendo la vida chueca
Dos vatos, Poco Locos
Pachando sospichosos
Asi trabaja, ese juego
Mi palabra es todo lo que tengo
En el monté, El Coyoté
Con los ojos que miran en la noche
Me and Lil' John Gotti, rockin' 80
From Tex to Cali, every hood, every alley
Smokin' on Smally in my candy-coated Caddy
Bendin' blocks on Goldy Locks
17 shots
Cops, swearin' to God we sellin' rocks
Cops, swearin' to God we sellin' rocks
