South Park Mexican - Wizard of Oz [tekst, tłumaczenie i interpretacja piosenki]

[Sonja Otero]
Yeah, yi, yeah

Chorus: Sonja Otero
Now, come follow me
Down yellow brick road
To Wizard Of O-Z
Hillwood
Hustler
Got what you need

Repeat Chorus

[South Park Mexican]
(Verse 1)
It were plain to see
Since the age of three
One day, dope fiends'll be pagin' me
I got crunk in the game, niggas knew my name
Hillwood
The place
I gain my fame
Sixteen
In a '77 Seville
Smoke grey, gold trim, big daddy grill
Back in '86, I was choppin' bricks
To think, a damn Paper Mate
Got me rich
I got
Love for the hustlers in every hood
With hate in your heart, it'll never be good
I feel blessed, but confess, I blow sess, for my stress
It's that Mex, with a "S," on my chest
Nonetheless, I was real with the homies
With the O-Z's, runnin' from the police
No peace
Blow sweets on cold streets
Dope fiends gon' bring a nigga more green (Bring a nigga more green...)

Repeat Chorus Twice

(Verse 2)
My money triple
Sippin' ripple, livin' simple
Rollin' paper squares out a fat ass nickle
Trick on my dick, for the bricks I chop
Pigs in my mix, when they hit my block
Used to catch a raid 'bout every six months
Just a check up
To see if id slip once
Call it one time, some rhyme 'bout this shit
I can slide in my sandals, but never will I slip
Undercovers hit the set
Man, y'all funny
Takin' them crumbs and givin'
Mark money
Tryin' to convict 'em
I ain't fallin' victim
Fool, I know your face, and my boys I done hipped em
They want me bad, so mad as they burn off
Fucking with them hoes, now my blunt done turned off
No other way, just another day on the spot
If you played, then you pay, it don't never stop (It don't never stop...)

Repeat Chorus Twice

(Verse 3)
I wrote this book 'bout a hopeless crook
Livin' in the land where the coke is cooked
Where hoes get took, and the joker's good
Where smoker's hooked in the soldier's hood
That lonely Wood
Where his homies stood
Tryin' to change myself if I only could
I'm just your Hillwood hustler
Street rhyme rustler
Blowin' more smoke than a broke down muffler
But I'm takin' losses
It ain't easy working jobs
With no fuckin' bosses
Sellin' dope
Is the hardest thing a man can do
Risking life
And your freedom for a buck or two
Still, I feel
If you lose control, homie, you'se a ho
Real G's keep they life on cruise control
When the police kick door
And raid my crib
I tell 'em pigs of the slippers
"That's not what I did" (That's not what I did...)

Repeat Chorus Twice