South Park Mexican - Boys On Da Cut lyrics

[First Verse:] I woke up quick, at around two Jumped in my benz, picked up DJ Screw Boys out there, makin' them tapes Separate the real n***as from the fakes My boy just got out, did a flat ten And he just can't stop talkin' bout that pen My best friend, but time destroys all men Now he don't give a f** about goin' again It ain't all good, but I ain't missin' no money I'm just a thug muthaf**a and you can't take nothin' from me Somebody once said they wanna see me dead The next week they found the boy with two holes in his head I break bread with my k**as in the H-TX It's the SP-Mex, in the all black stretch Known for my purity, pride, and security A house costs as much as one piece of my j**elry [Chorus:] Cuz the boys on the cut don't give a f** You come talkin' that sh**, your eyes get shut Boys out there, slangin' that yay Only p**y muthaf**as say that crime don't pay [2x] [Second Verse:] The time has come, and the day is here Two thousand one, is my muthaf**in' year I come from the head, it's the boy named Los The one that got everybody on they toes Straight up, and still I sell dope for a livin' In the form of a compact disc, f** prison No more savin' cans, no more collectin' pennies I'll have your f**in' clique hollerin' "Who k**ed Kenny?" For my Gangsta b**h, that I just met She ridin' my dick, chuckin' up her set I dance with the wolves, this is for my hood Got the whole World fiendin' for the dope I cut [Chorus] [Bridge (Ayana M.):] Fire...... We on fire....... We ain't gone stop.... Droppin' these boooooombs..... [2x] [Third Verse:] I was twelve years old, when I did my first jack And I don't think that b**h ever got her purse back With fifteen rocks, I bought my first car Cooked my first batch of dope in a pickle jar It's like uno, dos, tres, young Happy Perez Got me sellin' this dope to anyone on two legs Boys talkin' down, but I give two f**s Step in my face, I put you in an all-black tux Layin' in a casket, hard as a rock My lead, hit'cha head and make it snap, crackle, and pop Now how many times do I have to tell ya? All my life I've been called a failure! My freestyle flow, is so untouchable I just got out the county jail two months ago Now I'm in the studio, just like Julio In the city where them b**hes never won a Super Bowl Man I can't stop, I'ma keep on droppin' Seven of my b**hes at the same mall shoppin' At the galleria, tell me have you seen her? I f** a country singer and a Houston ballerina Plus a fine a** China, I used to be a dreamer Now I bought my Mom and Dad a navigator and a beamer Leave a mark in this game, ask Ted Indian I don't give a f** cuz every month I make a million [Bridge]