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​Screwed Up Tape

This song is by South Park Mexican and appears on the album Reveille Park (2002).

Rasheed:
Mom, I'm sorry for the things I did
And God thanks for all the times you let me live
I should've been dead a long time ago
Should've been me and not Wero
Foot on the pedal while I race to the hood
Go to revillations in your little black wood
My homies all changin' and that fuckin' shit hurts
I never fuck a friend unless they suck my dick first
Creep & I crawl, ball till I fall
Sell you a 80 won't charge you for the straw
They asked me how long I ever kept a job roughly
Well, I worked 6 months in that county as a trusty
I went to prison & I came back an animal
Southside, Houston's murder capital
My crew is cursed, shoot you first
Died next to a stupid nurse
Put you in the bluest hearse
I'll see your ass and Lucifer.

(Chorus: South Park Mexican] [x2)
6:00 in the morning police at my door
Fresh, Jordan's squeekin' cross my bathroom flawer
Out the back window, I make my escape
Didn't even have a chance to grab my Screwed Up Tape.

Low-G:
My green light, aloe sinche queeto ky guy palo
Haters don't like me 'cause my name is hard to swallow
Here he comes that 5 O asked me for I.D.
Play on his computer and finds some felonies
I was high, fly & a dubbed blue eye
Every questioned asked I came back with a lie
He was searchin' my ride and found my 45
That's when I started thinkin' had to bust him with my 9
Instead I ran, now your boy got away
That night we celebrate like it was a holiday
I use to be broke didn't have big faces
I had to wipe my ass with the yellow pages
No TV and no cartoons
My heffer in the kitchen washin' plastic spoons
I was a smoker tough on, green potent stuff
No diamonds on my wrist only broken cuffs.

(Chorus: South Park Mexican] [x2)
6:00 in the morning police at my door
Fresh, Jordan's squeekin' cross my bathroom flawer
Out the back window, I make my escape
Didn't even have a chance to grab my Screwed Up Tape. [x2]

South Park Mexican:
Oh no, what the fuck? I'm a come have some bud.
Who want to fuck with us? Ground like snuff or lupper cuts
Pro-tect my property, Hillwood prophecy
I don't know how many times I got to tell y'all to get off of me
Balls hangin' all I need, smokin' bitches crossin' me
When I kill you niggas we can all live in harmony
This ain't muthafuckin' break stone, I told you once leave us alone
Known to kill my fuckin' own, blame Houston 'cause that's my home.
How can I make it anymore clear?
My bud done look like daffadille
17 million a year, still I thug in my Cavilier
My people come, like Babylon, Mexican and African
Few white boys that's family, asian and mohamilly
Indian and that's in Navhoe, killers out that Navadoche
Careful how your ass appoach, get busted like you pass a note
All the hoes, camel toes, smokin' on that ardachoke
Bought the benz, bought the boat, in my kitchen rockin' coke.

(Chorus: South Park Mexican)
6:00 in the morning police at my door
Fresh, Jordans squeekin' cross my bathroom flawer
Out the back window, I make my escape
Didn't even have a chance to grab my Screwed Up Tape.

Crusin' down the street with my 6 hoes
Bumpin' my shit, ridin' on vogues
Went to the park to get the scoop
Young niggas out there cold shootin' some hoop.