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"Iatola" lyrics by SOUTH PARK MEXICAN
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[South Park Mexican:]
I'm meetin' up with the governor
3 2 & the Hillwood Hustla
Comin' straight out the head though
From the brain representin' my ghetto
It's a trip how they die young
In the hood in my cadillac flyer, through the 'wood
With my homey Iatola in the Clover
Pink soda mind of a noter
Lean on my shoulder slang coca
20 G's on my team Villanova
Blow marijuana in the sauna
While my niggas move dope on the corner
V 12 motor vida loca
Now your bitch tryin' to give me her panocha
Bad sweet roller in my troka
And my girl called the cops cause I choked her
Copa Cabana thankin' manta
For the keyboard that came with the sampler
Turn up the Clarion with the stelly on
She with me cause I am the champion.

I will kill you.
I will kill you.
No, I will kill you first.
Hey, I got some Whataburger. I got some Whataburger.
I'm a sit back cause I got some Whataburger.
It's quite delicious. Yes, it's very delicious.

[People talking in background]

[South Park Mexican:]
It's the same ol' story though
Nigga died cause he fucked with the wrong hoe
It's the sign of the times man
By second thank God that I'm alive man
Peace to my dead G's
Fell short tryin' to stack up they Benji's
In the midst & the fog
Boys wanna squab
All on my dick like corn on the cob
You ain't shit but a job for one of my killers.
How many niggas must die by the trigger?
I'm a slipper I'm a swerver first degree murder
Smoke a fried stick & get wetter than a surfer
No reversin' my nature 90 pounds on my pager
I Don't love you I don't hate you but I will misplace you
In the gutter for the fuck of it
Gangsta nigga chuggin' shit
Candy on my mothership
And haters they can suck a dick.

[Phone rings twice]

[South Park Mexican:]
That's the God damn deal.
And that's the God damn deal.

Dope House.

[South Park Mexican:]
Uh. Yeah hold up man.

Who is this?

[South Park Mexican:]
This... This how we do this. Man.


[South Park Mexican:]
So this what it came to y'all the same crew
Old friends Southeast niggas claim blue
But I don't gangbang.
I claim no color
She lost her son. What if that was your mother?
I sit back in my '92 blue 'Lac
And I support foundations like LULAC
I went to Alma in second ward off of Sherman
That was back when niggas jammin' to Peewee Herman
Smokin' with my teacher but not the preacher
I remember fuckin' Liz on the bleachers
1986 wasn't makin' hits
I was chasin' chicks havin' bad relationships.
Now I fuck Asian bitches fine Haitian bitches
Romanian Italian some fuckin' bang delicious
I went from pain to riches & I remain malicious
Shoot 'em up & leave 'em layin' in some strange positions.

[Thanks to ariel for correcting these lyrics]

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