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lirik lagu broadway – south park mexican

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now we sleep all day & party all night
i’m pickin’ up my homey from the what, northside
tommy’s on my shirt & nike’s on my shoes
we rollin’ in the ‘burban on them killer 22’s
hit the southside & pick up 2 twins
you can take kelly’s booty, i’m a do kim’s
cop’s don’t like me, not everyone agrees
i sag so low that my belts around my knees
b-ss be boomin’ make the girl’s -sses wiggle
my girl’s gettin’ drunk & she’s showin’ me her nipple
23rd & sherman, i stop to get a sack
sunday afternoon, i put mason on the map
cause the dopeman got ’em in a 6 4 drop
sometimes i’m on elbow, sometimes i’m on chop
dope house clique & we all got cloud
peace to dj lobo & my homey bill styles.

cause my posse’s is on broadway…

i ride with my n-gg-, lie for my n-gg-
smoke fry with my n-gg-, shine with my n-gg-
i’d die for my n-gg-, cry for my n-gg-
stay high with my n-gg-, my n-gg-
my n-gg-.

hangin’ with my n-gg-s in the hillwood grove
chicken’s in my kitchen cookin’ in my stove
imagine i’ve been saggin’ ever since i could walk
been beggin’ you to listen ever since i could talk
double in my money, even make it triple
i’ve never been a b-m, but i’m beggin’ for a nickel
still dippin’ sticks with a throwed -ss b-tch
workin’ those lips, but i don’t mean a kiss
roll with f-cking killers, we all got straps
walkin’ through my hood with a woodgrain mac
slip ’em in a coma, slangin’ on my cut
it took alot of work to get my block so crunk.

cause my posse’s on broadway…

i eat with my n-gg-, sleep with my n-gg-
cook beat with my n-gg-, creep with my n-gg-
on feet with my n-gg-, drink with my n-gg-
pack heat with my n-gg-, my n-gg-
my n-gg-.

now we back in population, we all got straps
run around town, in trophy trucks & ‘lacs
the wheels keep turnin’ i’m choppin’ up the wind
i see the girls lookin’ they wanna jump in
now the front ends hoppin’ & the car begins to dance
my 40 ounce bottle, is spillin’ on my pants
ridin’ too deep, in the 4-door ’77
i’m tryin’ to count my tv’s, i think i got 11
now we all got love for the ’63 impala
ruby is the short one, claimin’ guatemala
bobby is the mix breed, people think he’s funny
behind us in the cougar & he’s hoppin’ like a bunny
bird’s keep flyin’ i feel like a hawaiian
cause my backyard looks like an exotic island
creepin’ harrisburg, the party broke left
i make a u-turn ’cause i’m broadway to my death.

cause my posse’s on broadway…

i roll with my n-gg-, smoke with my n-gg-
f-ck hoes with my n-gg-, blow with my n-gg-
buy clothes with my n-gg-, throw with my n-gg-
cook dough with my n-gg-, my n-gg-
my n-gg-.

i chill with my n-gg-, deal with my n-gg-
pop pills with my n-gg-, steal for my n-gg-
i’d kill for my n-gg-, feel my n-gg-
on wheels with my n-gg-, my n-gg-
my n-gg-.

south park’s in the m-th-f-ckin’ house ya’ll
south park’s in the m-th-f-ckin’ house
south park’s in the m-th-f-ckin’ house ya’ll [-gunshots-]
south park’s in the m-th-f-ckin’ house!

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