SPM SCREENS FALLEN LYRICS

 
Screens falling from the sky
Boy swangin' on those, low pro Vogues
We sunny side, for life
Candy on my '4, I'm so throwed

[Verse 1: SPM]
It feel good givin back to the hood
I'm tryin to make up for all the dope I cooked
And for all the dope fiends I wooped
Remember my first gun? I almost shot my foot
Surrounded by crackheads, I would wonder?
Will a nigga ever make it out this gutter?
Cops would come, all of us would run
It was nine of us, they couldnt catch one
Good old days, I wont forget
While I write on this laptop in this jet
With the Universal Records President
And they say everything I do
I'm the first mexican
Aint no love and aint no peace, bro
My 12 gauge shotty will make
Your chest look like a pizza
Things I do, I'm a goddamn fool
I'm puttin seventeen strip dancers all through school

[Chorus]

[Verse 2: Coast]
And you can find me in a parkin lot
Parkin a drop, hop in the X5
Thats mine, SUV,(uh-uh)yes ma
Next time I pull up and
Some of that old crazy shit
every wheel I roll on
got ten inches for the radius
Maybe its the attention that I'm gettin
When they spinnin, or maybe
It's just the liqour I'm sippin
That got me feelin like
I cant be taken lightly
Cause I been poppin pills
So you aint gon' like me
I might be distributing yayo
Put you on my payroll
Supply with a bird
but you dont move it till I say so
Make sure you dont take no
money out from under me
Cause I'm the type of player
Thats gonna run up in your company
Dont trust me, cuz aint ever sober
Usually I'm gone off of that
Pink or Purple soda
You better move over
I'm not far from vomiting
Los and Coast a sippa
till they dyin aint no stoppin 'em

[Chorus]

[Verse 3: SPM]
I dont give a fuck, cuz
We some hustlaz, friends we once was
Now I wants blood, scratchin on my six
Thats somethin that a bitch'll do
I bet you squat down
Everytime you piss out brew
Tomahawk, show these niggas your tattoo
While we bang screw, Erykah Badu
Knock knock, pop trunk on the boulevarde
How the fuck you gon' act like you pussies hard?
Once again, S-P Man, true killer
Fuck talkin bitch, show me what it do nigga
Representer, bow before you enter
Theres a reward for the man that can find my temper
Sick and tired of you jealous-ass bitches
Send you to hell and you can call me long distance
Dont't run your mouth homeboy, you aint deep enough
Get on your phone, go and call some more people up

[Chorus]