Silhouettes Lyrics - South Park Mexican

[Carolyn] 

(oohs at beginning) 

[SPM:] 

Yo, Blowin on a sack of flight, building up my appetite 

See my homies eatin and I be like "Can I have a bite?" 

Last night I had a fight, after that I grabbed the mic 

When the club closed I went home on my granny's bike 

People was laughin like "look he just ran the light" 

I just kept pedalin, I didn't get mad or gipe 

Sell that rock and the pipe, G 'til my afterlife 

Let me get on stage, bet I say the things thatcha like 

Higher than a dragonfly, I'ma make math or die 

Been a pimp since that group that I was in with Gladys Knight 

Mostly I be packin nines, have you pushin dandelions 

Come short with my cash you be dancin like is Hammer Time 

Yeah I'm lost and I'm blind, still I'm gon' handle mine 

Have ya homie leakin cuz he bumpin mo' than camel spines 

In the hood I vandalize, land of fiends and baggy eyes 

Where you can make a killin and don't even have to advertise 

[Chorus: SPM & Carolyn 2X:] 

Silhouettes, crack pipes at night, then ya see the jumbo lighter strike 

Thug stories of a violent life, smoke once and you will try it twice 

What the fuck else am I to do? I wanna be rich and buy a zoo 

Maybe just a candy five or two, and tell my daughter I would die for you 

[SPM:] 

Can't switch neva change nothin for the radio 

You don't have to play me hoe, I'ma still make my dough 

I been sellin albums since '92 and '93 

They would either call me for a tape or a quota key 

For the dream, for the team, can't nobody hang with Los 

Battle me, I'm like "Man at least tryta make it close" 

M.C. Tortura-rap game Sorcera 

Ya'll rememba when I did it on that song "Warriors" 

That was maybe '95 with the Most Hated group 

All my enemies heard my voice and it made'em puke 

Ever since I hit the street, I been on a hittin streak 

Straigt from the gutta, would you like to take a little peek? 

Simple T and Dickie shorts, on da cut wit cold quarts 

No time to go home, cook it with a blow torch 

Old men on da porch watchin boyz come'n go 

Life is a prison risk in the midst of runnin slow 

[Chorus: SPM & Carolyn 2X:] 

[SPM:] 

Hustle slow or hustle fast, cages for who love the cash 

Others in a burried hole, no one really understands 

Trouble lands where it may, death is neva choosy 

If I try to ask 'why' the shit'll just confuse me 

don't lose me, just hold tight, I know is gettin deep again 

Call me when you need Dope nigga I don't need a friend 

I been on a hustle since I started cutting people yards 

Then I started noticing the rims on these people cars 

Hope that they sleepin hard when I come back tonight 

Next thang ya know I'm stopping hard at a traffic light 

Jamming Ike, radio was programmed to oldies 

Waitin on the green light so that i can go please 

A/C with cold breeze, blowin on a Optimo 

I could reach the pedal betta if I had a longa toe 

Stop at the Stop'N'Go, I ain't got no gas money 

So I pump the gas first and holla, "Pay ya back buddy!" 

[Chorus: SPM & Carolyn 2X:] 

[oohs at end]