Testo Latin Throne - SPM
Testo della canzone Latin Throne (SPM), tratta dall'album Best Of The Best Vol. 1
One time, baby, yeah
Ain't no stopping this movement
Better roll with it
Land of dumb dumb, is where I come from
Believe me when I tell you that you don't want none, son
A long hard road for this Latin throne
You can catch me at the club in the back alone
Mommas, don't let your babies grow up to be gangstas
Killers taught to not give a fuck, hit 'em up with sign language
Reach for the stainless, leave 'em brainless
I'm just explaining how the game is
The strangest of things come to me at no surprise
Fuck pea shooters, all my gats are super-sized
Utilize all my allies, I run with the bad guys
I got seven dope houses, that's a franchise
Man cries if he was blessed with a heart
But I lost mine, in the back streets of South Park
Once again, it's Mr. SPM
And the shit ain't gonna stop until I'm dead or in the pen
He's a hustler, he's a father
He sits on the Latin throne
He's a hustler, he's a father
He sits on the Latin throne
We shooting stars, running from cop cars
I got scars, jumping metal gates and sharp bars
The hood is ours, save my pennies in a pickle jar
Every day you see me in a different crackhead's car
It's all bizarre how so many bullets miss my head
I told my mom that I'm gonna stick with this instead
Fuck the crack rock, I rapped and hit the jackpot
Now I'm on a plane writing on my laptop
It's all wiggy, rocking city to city
But I still feel my past catching up with me
Got more ends, bought my mom a gold Benz
But she worried 'cause I still got all my old friends
Hoping that I slow up and change one day
But these Hillwood streets got me raised one way
I told my lady one day we gon' be like the Brady's
But for now I teach you how to use this.380
He's a hustler, he's a father
He sits on the Latin throne
He's a hustler, he's a father
He sits on the Latin throne
Three years and counting, I've been drinking from the music fountain
The dope house sits in Houston like a fucking mountain
Who you doubting? This brown is coming out the South
I got non-believers with they foot in they mouth
I break Guinnesses, keep 'em off my premises
Used to be menaces, now our dreams limitless
Isn't this a trip? Not a slipper or a sleeper
Niggas wanting dope still hitting up my beeper
We can overcome the ghetto, even G's without a mother
Bread without butter, I came crawling out a gutter
Born hustler, used to drive an old gas guzzler
Fresh out the hood, I was selling dope last summer
Serving zombies, a following as big as Gandhi's
Now I'm Donkey Dicking brunettes and blondies
Jamming Jon B with bottles of Dom P
The day of the wetback has striked upon thee
He's a hustler, he's a father
He sits on the Latin throne
He's a hustler, he's a father
He sits on the Latin throne
He's a hustler, he's a father
He sits on the Latin throne
Credits
Writer(s): Carlos Coy
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