"Lobo Wanna Raise" lyrics
[South Park Mexican:]
Uh, uh pick up my voice a little bit
Just a little man, just a little bit man, yo just a little bit dog, just a little bit, yeah
Flippin' ex-hoe trippin'... oh shit...
Flippin' ex-hoe trippin'
Got them new kicks from that boy Scottie Pippen
Still weight liftin', skin off the chicken
And you hoes already know what I'm sippin'
Still a big dipper
Still a straight killer
Still unloadin' off that 18-wheeler'
Nobody better never ever ever
Glass on my 'lac like that girl Cinderella
Hand on my 'retta
Surf on the netter
Lookin' for a shredder in a polo sweater
Beef gets settled
Straight from the ghetto
Say you comin' back homeboy aquí te espero
Hillwood Texas, not many Mexicans
Except the one that got them 2600 engines
Don't ask questions, don't give answers
Sittin' at the bar 'cause I'm not a good dancer
It's the day after, pray for me pastor
Mix a little purple with the strawberry Shasta
Or the cream soda
Rollin' in the cobra
Motherfuckin' thug born the 5th of October
Servin' that coka
It's la vida loca
Catch her at the club I'm a slap her then choke her
Still a baller haulic bought and I shot it
Call it what you call it, more brown bags than Sonic
Man I'm abracadabra
Struggler not a straggler
Bubbler not a babbler
Hustler not a hastler
Never been a bachelor
Always been married
To these fuckin' streets
Stayin' loyal 'til I'm buried
Now I'm a swang, I'm a swerve
I think I'm seein' blurred
With my boy Serge in the truck watchin' Spurs
With my Persian princess
On 22 inches
When I sleep she say that my trigger finger twitches
I'm superstitious and I believe in ghosts
So many hoes wanna be with the Los
I'm tweakin' on the motherfuckin' weed that I smoke
Goin' 95 on my motherfuckin' boat
Ridin' them waves
Chunkin' up my tres
Lobo call me up talkin' 'about he wanna raise
Crime sure pays
Don't do braids, keep a low cut like that boy Norman Bates
Rattles and it shakes, jumps and it brakes
White candy paint look like the pearly gates
Sellin' my tapes in 50 different states
Fuck the radio 'cause you motherfuckers hate
But it's all good, I'm from a small hood
Tie his bitch ass up and bring him back to Hillwood
In my Levi's sag down to my lugs
With a T-Shirt that say "weed is not drugs"
Be one of us, live in the rush
Just put diamonds on my baby's hairbrush
I fuck with the plus and not the minus
And I might just let my black 9 bust
And it goes like...
[Uchie:]
Uh ya'll ain't ready for this
Nuh-uh ya'll ain't ready for this
Uh ya'll ain't ready for this, come on, ya'll ain't ready for this
[South Park Mexican:]
I tightin' up my lacies on my brand-new Stacies
Hug and kiss my babies then call up my crazies
Tryin' to make it through another day no leasy
Motherfuckers hate 'cause I'm on top like ZZ
Young niggas think we out here playin' fuckin' games
'Til one niggas lookin' at the other nigga's brains
Laughed and he giggled about the words that I riddled
Now he stiff in the coffin' rock-hard and dick shriveled
Hoppin' along in my '54 bomb
Yes I hate pigs like them boys of Islam
Gone in the wind, not long 'til the end
No more talkin my Glock in the palm of my hand
Alize at the mandolay
Got a call they shot 2 the rest ran away
That's how the shit gets done in the deep south
I'm in Vegas watchin' vargas knock a bitch out
Ice glisten ballitician hold it down and dirty
Peace to all my fuckin' raza up in Albuquerque
Signing bonus with the Union now my house is roomy
Niggas wanna do me but you bitches nothin' to me
Understand my killers love makin' haters bloody
Actin' buddy but he softer than silly putty
Hangin' by a rope and gut 'em like you do a goat
And on his neck write this on a fuckin' note
Bitch pissin' in the wind what began has begun
Blast my heat once sweep 'em up and be done
I'm one in a catrillion, mother-fuck a million
Layin' in my bed gettin' head from a Brazilian
Mama still bitchin
Gangsters still listen
I'm blowin' weed with them boys from New Edition
Man I'm ballin'
Never ever fallin'
Skip to my lou my motherfuckin' darlin'
And it goes like...
[Uchie:]
Uh ya'll ain't ready for this
Ya'll ain't ready for this
Uh ya'll ain't ready for this
Nuh-uh you no ready for this, listen
So if you see 'em see 'em, go head tell 'em tell 'em
Only music is my dope and I sell 'em sell 'em
Or I slang 'em slang 'em
It don't matter what you call it
My shit so hot up in the hood you better record it
Now some of ya'll niggas think my heart is so warm
Cold motherfucker me, you don't want none motherfucker
Have your whole crew ducka ducka
It happens when I pull out my 9-milla placa
Nigga won't you be careful 'cause my block gets hotter
Chunk that bullet out my gun non-stopper
Remember when I used to be a mic wrecker?
By the grace of Yahweh I come to be the mic checker
Now it's better, now that I'm makin' mad cheddar
My belly stay full and my throat was never wetter
Hey Rebecca, meet me at the back stage later
'Cause when I go down there' we're gonna go down to Jamaica
That's what I'm talkin' about
See ya later
Uh ya'll ain't ready for this
Yeah, that was kinda tight wasn't it? "Yeah"
Alright
Uh, uh pick up my voice a little bit
Just a little man, just a little bit man, yo just a little bit dog, just a little bit, yeah
Flippin' ex-hoe trippin'... oh shit...
Flippin' ex-hoe trippin'
Got them new kicks from that boy Scottie Pippen
Still weight liftin', skin off the chicken
And you hoes already know what I'm sippin'
Still a big dipper
Still a straight killer
Still unloadin' off that 18-wheeler'
Nobody better never ever ever
Glass on my 'lac like that girl Cinderella
Hand on my 'retta
Surf on the netter
Lookin' for a shredder in a polo sweater
Beef gets settled
Straight from the ghetto
Say you comin' back homeboy aquí te espero
Hillwood Texas, not many Mexicans
Except the one that got them 2600 engines
Don't ask questions, don't give answers
Sittin' at the bar 'cause I'm not a good dancer
It's the day after, pray for me pastor
Mix a little purple with the strawberry Shasta
Or the cream soda
Rollin' in the cobra
Motherfuckin' thug born the 5th of October
Servin' that coka
It's la vida loca
Catch her at the club I'm a slap her then choke her
Still a baller haulic bought and I shot it
Call it what you call it, more brown bags than Sonic
Man I'm abracadabra
Struggler not a straggler
Bubbler not a babbler
Hustler not a hastler
Never been a bachelor
Always been married
To these fuckin' streets
Stayin' loyal 'til I'm buried
Now I'm a swang, I'm a swerve
I think I'm seein' blurred
With my boy Serge in the truck watchin' Spurs
With my Persian princess
On 22 inches
When I sleep she say that my trigger finger twitches
I'm superstitious and I believe in ghosts
So many hoes wanna be with the Los
I'm tweakin' on the motherfuckin' weed that I smoke
Goin' 95 on my motherfuckin' boat
Ridin' them waves
Chunkin' up my tres
Lobo call me up talkin' 'about he wanna raise
Crime sure pays
Don't do braids, keep a low cut like that boy Norman Bates
Rattles and it shakes, jumps and it brakes
White candy paint look like the pearly gates
Sellin' my tapes in 50 different states
Fuck the radio 'cause you motherfuckers hate
But it's all good, I'm from a small hood
Tie his bitch ass up and bring him back to Hillwood
In my Levi's sag down to my lugs
With a T-Shirt that say "weed is not drugs"
Be one of us, live in the rush
Just put diamonds on my baby's hairbrush
I fuck with the plus and not the minus
And I might just let my black 9 bust
And it goes like...
[Uchie:]
Uh ya'll ain't ready for this
Nuh-uh ya'll ain't ready for this
Uh ya'll ain't ready for this, come on, ya'll ain't ready for this
[South Park Mexican:]
I tightin' up my lacies on my brand-new Stacies
Hug and kiss my babies then call up my crazies
Tryin' to make it through another day no leasy
Motherfuckers hate 'cause I'm on top like ZZ
Young niggas think we out here playin' fuckin' games
'Til one niggas lookin' at the other nigga's brains
Laughed and he giggled about the words that I riddled
Now he stiff in the coffin' rock-hard and dick shriveled
Hoppin' along in my '54 bomb
Yes I hate pigs like them boys of Islam
Gone in the wind, not long 'til the end
No more talkin my Glock in the palm of my hand
Alize at the mandolay
Got a call they shot 2 the rest ran away
That's how the shit gets done in the deep south
I'm in Vegas watchin' vargas knock a bitch out
Ice glisten ballitician hold it down and dirty
Peace to all my fuckin' raza up in Albuquerque
Signing bonus with the Union now my house is roomy
Niggas wanna do me but you bitches nothin' to me
Understand my killers love makin' haters bloody
Actin' buddy but he softer than silly putty
Hangin' by a rope and gut 'em like you do a goat
And on his neck write this on a fuckin' note
Bitch pissin' in the wind what began has begun
Blast my heat once sweep 'em up and be done
I'm one in a catrillion, mother-fuck a million
Layin' in my bed gettin' head from a Brazilian
Mama still bitchin
Gangsters still listen
I'm blowin' weed with them boys from New Edition
Man I'm ballin'
Never ever fallin'
Skip to my lou my motherfuckin' darlin'
And it goes like...
[Uchie:]
Uh ya'll ain't ready for this
Ya'll ain't ready for this
Uh ya'll ain't ready for this
Nuh-uh you no ready for this, listen
So if you see 'em see 'em, go head tell 'em tell 'em
Only music is my dope and I sell 'em sell 'em
Or I slang 'em slang 'em
It don't matter what you call it
My shit so hot up in the hood you better record it
Now some of ya'll niggas think my heart is so warm
Cold motherfucker me, you don't want none motherfucker
Have your whole crew ducka ducka
It happens when I pull out my 9-milla placa
Nigga won't you be careful 'cause my block gets hotter
Chunk that bullet out my gun non-stopper
Remember when I used to be a mic wrecker?
By the grace of Yahweh I come to be the mic checker
Now it's better, now that I'm makin' mad cheddar
My belly stay full and my throat was never wetter
Hey Rebecca, meet me at the back stage later
'Cause when I go down there' we're gonna go down to Jamaica
That's what I'm talkin' about
See ya later
Uh ya'll ain't ready for this
Yeah, that was kinda tight wasn't it? "Yeah"
Alright
