Ghetto Tales Lyrics - Power Moves - South Park

Phat Money Records 

SPM baby 

Putting it down with that Phat Money Records 

Dope House Records 

Phat Stacks, A.C. Chill, L.T. 

This one's Ghetto Tales 

What you know about that? 

Chorus (2Xs) 

These are the tales, the Ghetto Tales 

Dope sales and life is hell, trying to stay out of 

jail 

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I'm rolling H-town South Park backstreets 

A.C. Chill all the O.G.'s know me 

In that Bourbon with the candy paint 

For deep most of my niggas ain't got no car that's why 

we so deep 

We left a funeral to see my homie's mamma cry 

It always hurt me when any of my homies die 

All of a sudden gun shots rang out 

I guess these young G's plexin' gang bang clout 

We pulled over I said �� me out this bitch man?e of these niggas finna get they wig split man 

Pulled out my strap you know how the show goes 

Somebody yelled out and yo here come the Po-Po's 

I told my niggax ?man I'll Catch you later?t pocket full of weed plus they got me on paper 

Bailed around the corner to holla at my homie 

Next thing you know the f**king haters roll up on me 

Damn, how much hating can a young nigga take? 

First chance I get a mother f**ker finna break 

They caught me, now I'm in the jail cell pacing 

Damn, a violation 

Eighteen months is what I'm facing 

Photos 

Chorus (2Xs) 

Im pushing weight trying to have it 

Everything is flat 

But at the same time I'm leaving niggas on their back 

Up in the neighborhood I'm trying to stack a little cream 

I'm paper chasing me and we trying to stack some green 

And everything is far as bad when it comes to drama 

I'm trying to make a little cash for me, Jay, and mamma 

Ain't paying no bills but these niggas got me f**ked up 

I rather sit on streets than see my ass locked up 

And serving fiends is an everyday life thing 

And from the cells chilling trying to have a nice day 

And for this 420 Eastex life thing 

I got the skills to hit a nigga from big mar man 

And platinum shit we gonna drop on the block-a-dee 

Come watch my tongue twist wrecking with my boy ��Trying to survive make a meal with these ghetto dreams 

We playa made plus we from the heart of S.E. 

Chorus (2Xs) 

SPM baby sitting dope fiends at the dead end 

Fighting over sales with my motherf**king best friend 

Used to be broke and assed out 

Now I buy Diamonds that make my wife pass out 

Bad route was a path I chose 

Blasting hoes 

At last I rose 

I got cash and clothes 

From the crack I sold to let you bastards know 

Stacking dough sitting on glass and vogues 

My ass gonna show 

I'm straight out of the slums 

South Park where you get your car washed for crumbs 

But these laws is on a cookout 

I used to get took out 

Three dollar pieces for my look out 

Licensed cookie baker 

That's my profession 

Never have my dope in my own possession 

Niggas selling cocaine in my domain 

I sneak up from the back and take you out with no pain 

Chorus (2Xs)