Lobo Wanna Raise Lyrics - South Park

SPM 

uh, uhh 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-ho trippin... ohhh shit 

flippin, ex-ho trippin 

got them new kicks from that boy scottie pippin 

still weight liffin... skin off the chicken 

and you hos already know what im sippin 

still a big dippa' 

still a straight killa' 

still unloadin' off that eighteen wheela' 

nobody betta', never ever ever 

glass on my 'lac like that girl cinderella 

hand on my 'retta 

surf on the netta 

lookin for a shredder in a polo sweater 

beef gets settled 

straight from the ghetto 

say you comin back homeboy i keep espedo 

hillwood tx, not many mexicans 

'cept the one that got them two six hundred engines 

don't ask questions, don't give answers 

sittin at the bar cause im not a good dancer 

its 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 fifth of october 

servin that coka 

its la vida loca 

catch her at the club ima slap her then choke her 

still a baller haulin, bought and i shot it 

call it what you call it, more brown bags than sonic 

man im abra cadabra 

struggler not a straggler 

bubbler not a babbler 

hustler not a hastler 

never been a bachelor 

always been married 

to these fuckin streets 

stayin long 'till im buried 

now ima swang, ima swerve 

i think im seein blurrs 

wit my boy serge in the trunk watchin spurs 

wit my persian princess 

on twenty-two inches 

when i sleep she say that my trigger finger twitches 

im superstitious and i believe in ghosts 

so many hos wanna be with the 'los 

im tweakin on the motherfuckin weed that i smoke 

goin ninety-five on my motherfuckin boat 

ridin them waves 

chunkin up my tres 

lobo call me up talkin 'bout he want a raise 

crime sho 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 fifty different states 

fuck the radio cause you motherfuckers hate 

but its all good, im 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 "breeders 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 nine bust 

and it goes like... 

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Uchei (chorus) 

uhh 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, you no ready for this 

SPM 

i tightin up my laces on my brand new stacy's 

hug and kiss my babies then call up my crazies 

tryin to make it through another day no easy 

motherfuckers hate cause im on top like zz 

young niggas think we out here playin fuckin games 

'til one niggas lookin at the other niggas brains 

laughed and you giggled bout the words that i riddled 

now we step 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 'till the end 

no more talk with my glock in the palm of my hand 

alize at the mandolay 

got a call they shot two, the rest ran away 

that's how the shit gets done in the deep south 

im in vegas watchin vargas knock a bitch out 

ice glisten ballitician hold it down and dirty 

peace to all my fuckin raza up in alberquerque 

sign a bonus with ???? now my house is roomy 

niggas wanna do me but you bitches nothin to me 

understand my killers love makin haters bloody 

actin buddy buddy softer than silly putty 

hang 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 then be done 

im one in a catrillion, motherfuckin million 

layin in my bed gettin head from a brazilian 

mama still bitchin 

gangstas still listen 

im blowin weed with them boys from new edition 

man im ballin 

never ever fallin 

skip to my lou my motherfuckin darlin 

and it goes like... 

Photos 

Uchei (chorus) 

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 ya'll ain't ready for this, listen 

Uchei 

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 nine milla placa 

nigga watcha, be careful cause my blood gets hotter 

chunk that bullit out my gun than stoppa 

remember when i used to be a mic wrecker 

but by the grace of your way i come to be the mic checker 

now its betta, now that im makin that chedda 

my belly stay full and my throat was never wetta 

every ????, meet me at the back stage letta 

cause when ???? we goin' go down to jamaica 

that's what im talkin about 

see ya later 

uh ya'll ain't ready for this 

that was kinda tight wasn't it (yeahhhh) 

alright 

eh he he yeah right