Hoggin' And Doggin' Lyrics - The Last Chair Violinist - South Park Mexican

[Chorus - Carolyn:] 

We we we mobbin 

We hoggin and we doggin 

We creepin and we crawlin 

It's time to do you all in 

fa sho 

[Lucky] 

Hold up I'm too throwed, I'm the young capo 

5 star general, Lucky Luciano 

Yo my check's too fat, the banks can't cash it 

Gimmie ten days, meanwhile i got plastic 

Country to country I live in hotels 

No ashy elbows, pedicured toenails 

Sittin on a beach chair, 200 dollar chanclas 

Am I in Acapulco or Puerto Vallaca? 

Sippin outta pineapple, actin a fool 

Step out my balcony and check out my view 

Im lookin brand new, i get menages crunk 

Lucky look cleaner then Andre Monk 

Open up my closet and you in the Galleria 

Im the shit homeboy call me Lucky Diarrhea 

Covered in diamonds, get a load of this wrist 

Just to show out and stunt, I'm the Dope House Prince 

[Chorus 2X:] 

[SPM] 

I'm kinda hotta than lava, I got a dog that slobba 

I might be yo father betta ask yo mama 

I practice Karate like the boy Chuck Norris 

I'm Papa Bear I'm like "Who the hell dem eatin my porridge?" 

I'm still Ralph Lauren and I'm still Mike Jordan 

I'm still commin down Orem just floorin the foreign 

Never borin or simple, man I'm really excitin 

I got to clubs and be fightin, i be kickin and bitin 

I might poke ya eye out, i dont fight that fair 

I fought a dudde with some braids, and started pullin his hair 

But my boys back me up and leave nobody standin 

I'm like "Why ya'll jump in man I almost had'em" 

And they was like "Los he was beatin yo ass" 

I was letting him get tierd, man you messed up my plans 

Anyway, I'mma write a song about it and tell 

All my fans that I beat him up all by myself--haha 

[Chorus 2X:] 

[Low-G] 

I might play Chalupa, that's Mexican Bingo 

Peace to my boys up in Coffield and Beto 

My Benz take diesel, dejame explico 

If I hit the pen walk around with a pico 

I used to slang cincos, chilled on Domingos 

Dickies look young aint got no wrinkles 

Shoot like Ming when he hit 12 footaz 

I be pulling hoes like a kid pick boogaz 

You can see my Rolly when I dip guacamole 

Got all white pit like Angelina Jolie 

I put red dots on 9 milla glocks 

Might make you think that you got chicken pox 

Got rims like a spida, weed to the lighta 

It's ya boy Low, I'mma killa not a fighta 

Roll with my china, phone off ringa 

I know you hear the hook, nigga that's my lil prima 

[Chorus 2X:] 

I'm at Dope House smoked out, Baby Bash loc'd out 

Doin tracks with Charlie Brown when he broke out 

He chocked out his C.O., did it on the D-lo 

Went to see his wife and his daughter and his hijo 

The game is so frio, now he tippin Styrofoam 

said he gotta be right back before the lights is on 

But it's all gravity, learn from tragedy 

Just to let you know how cold them batches be 

Cause when it comes to the jealous man it get messy 

I fuck around and gotta turn into some Joe Peci 

I pimp the blood ouy ya mama and ya loved ones 

Sell dog shit to ya uncles and ya cousins 

And guaranteed that you won't say nada 

Radio or not, man you still don't want no brrr--aaa,brrr--aa 

And that's the really really realest shit I ever spoken 

Don't get it twisted mayne, Dope House is still open 

[Chorus X2:] 

Creepin and we crawlin, time to do you all in...