F*cking Money Man

[Verse 1: Hoodizm] I stay focused, life’s all about balance Success breeds [?] ‘cause God gave me this talent I never rode the bench, I always been a starter And overtime gon’ cost you more than four quarters Big mouths I slap shut and slap nuts I vanquish Flap them lips too much you’ll leave using sign language Call me king ‘cause I wreck ‘em, polish ‘em with my septum Trap ‘em when I catch ‘em, put motion sensors in they rectum And then I send ‘em through so they can roam the blue And you bet not call the police ‘cause every step you take I’ll be watching you I’ll be watching you, I swear every step you take I’ll be watching you [Verse 2: Sniper] Sick militant flow, [?] like a carbine Explicit with the lyrics, watch me blow like a time bomb Soldier of fortune, no time for the outcome SPC, where the hell Sniper come from? H-Town, baby, no love for you busters Regime too raw, that’s why they don’t love us The Mexican patna reppin’ SPC Nobody in the game doing it like me I’m surrounded by history, a legend in the making K-Rino said homie that it’s mine for the taking Can’t mess with the warriors, I’m bringing the pain Snipe with the beast, militant mind-frame [Verse 3: Rapper K] Rapper K is the answer to the question of who is it Got the call from the [?], flip my tongue like a lizard Had no choice but to react when I first heard this track Started jottin’ down lines in the back of the Lac Contemplating to myself, now where should I begin? I’m headed to the lab, my phone rings, it’s K again Said, “I’m giving you a heads-up, you better bring your A-game ‘cause GT just killed it and Sniper wasn’t playin’ I arrived at the lab and heard this sh*t, he wasn’t frontin’ Now I’m standing at the mic, I’m ‘bout to spit something I’m ‘bout to shine, ‘bout to go for mine I only got twelve lines, ah sh*t, I’m outta time [Verse 4: Cl’ Che] Cool game, [?] Not only hood, they internationally know my name Cl’ Che but you can call me Ms West The only rap chick in South Park in the library history chest SPC, SUC, you can run across me, legendary emcee Every word in my lyrics done paid dues Google me, baby, under the keyword “She’s a [?]” They hittin’ me from Germany saying, “Cl’ Che’s cool” They can’t speak English but they rappin’ every word I put in Pro Tools Spit something or just repeat this, “She’s a [?] little mama and she’s a bad chick [Verse 5] Just as is Anakin Skywalker before transforming to Darth Vader My pen takes the form of a lightsaber We touching the paper, my thoughts condense from vapors My neighbors savor the flavor like babies pacing in front of a pit filled with alligators When calibrating my brain, can’t remain unanimated I allocated a heavy dose of pain, it’s navigated Straight to your mainframe through the main vein You strain in vain to maintain but can’t contain The flame the God rained down with love for Abel but disdain for Cain Who he labeled a murderer of his brother, which was unstable and deranged But now we gang-bang and slang ‘caine [Verse 6: Murder One] I’m a South Park assassin that’s sicker than straw fakers Walk-ins are [?], take upon all takers [?] God bless you and your mama When f*ckin’ with Murder, you end up with multiple head trauma I talk the talk, walk the walk So ease on down the road [?] end up in chalk I have no preference who I devour, man Me with a hundred round clip make it easy to shower man Now whoever thought Murder One was a rowdy man A everyday cat that runs with a rowdy clan South Park Coalition is the name of this rowdy band Murder One [?] and I’m outie man [Verse 7: K-Rino] I spot moon rocks with my optics Got subatomic harpoons and deadly monsoons in my pocket I pause and start morphing Inner body experience where I enter your body and crush organs I think 'til the floor spins I'm still bombing after the war ends, endorphins so strong they make swords bend Live and execute a rough lyrics prolific shooter In the womb receiving visions from my physics tutor Once the beat ignites, no more MCs in sight I'm from a planet where midgets are seven feet in height I don't let cowards speak plus my powers deep Work for nine years in a row and recharge on a hour's sleep [Verse 8] Officer Cartwheel, officer Cooper Tuck your tails in when you see us on street, if not, we shoot ya On your way to hell ‘cause heaven you never made it Walk around in your shell ‘cause your soul’s been desecrated Don’t slouch, keep my pistol in perfect pouch Hit you when you in your Snuggie, sittin’ on your curvy couch Rhymes blow up, scar you in legions Twisted metal travels to equatorial regions Retaliation got a lot of remedies One by one your family members erased like Kennedys I’m a rapper slash producer slash terrorist Slash illuminati grow from ear to ear, I’m the scariest [Verse 9] Out a playa know his mama planted the truth in me And grew up so big ’til it popped, now it’s loose in me Mind frame brain ain’t the same that it used to be I rather live life than chase women and jewelry Spit game came with a heavenly layer [?] beware, [?] be everywhere It ain’t no playin’ with you, busters, I will shoot in the air But instead of spittin’ some bullets, I’ma spit you a prayer Dear God, let ‘em ride, give ‘em where to survive Leave ’em alive, even if he wishing I died And dear God, let ‘em ride even if we collide ‘cause I know even when I’m wrong, I want you on my side And that’s [?] [Verse 10] Spittin’ at you fools, [?] Kick down doors, go and stage [?] Seek the truth, gain self-knowledge Educate yourself, as well as go college Spit from the mind, spit to the beat Spit from the heart, spit for those raised on the streets Words transcribe onto paper without thinking Some think they’re on top but I see ‘em sinking I’m a spitter, old school tagger Flows still sharp like a sharpened dagger Climb the ladder from the gutter to the stage Now I spit something just to earn my wage [Verse 11] It’s the return of [?] Class of ’89, bloodline SPC I’m a lyrical train-wreck, spot-rocker, [?] [?] Slam dunk kind of flow Shattered the glass in South Park but I was on the court in Tokyo Half man, half silverback Half of my opponent hanging out my mouth I got an anaconda’s digestive tract Assassin’s Creed [?] hard when I spit But [?] so hard [?] and jumped on my d*ck [?] rare breed of the SPC seed [?] signing out live from [?], yo [Verse 12] Uh, full block say goodbye when I spit something That’s for ni**as left [?], we burn and get to dumpin’ That’s for ni**as thinking they chick won’t leave ‘cause a ni**a rich But when [?], she got hooked on the bigger fish I’m like the old school Wu, all about cream Getting to the [?] been like sippin’ on lean Gotta spit something, bringing out the [?] team Got enough drive for two and a half men, call me Charlie Green I’m in the streets with that thing, I gotta get it right You can dodge for so long like Eddie, my chopper Scary Spice I leave the [?] like a college grad [?] What I spit, ni**as catching bullets like a young Jerry Rice [Verse 13: Point Blank] Point Blank, the Southside OG They know the real so they still keep they eyes on me You might not see me on BET or things of that nature Can’t get no play when ni**as at the radio station hate ya One thing they can’t take from me is the streets A lot of these pussies can’t be found in the streets Yeah, like [?] I’m all over Call me AI when I hit the state-line and I crossover I represent Texas like Vince, a boss like Prince, you can check my prints You might see me in the club with some Lords and Bloods Got a sherm flow motherf*ckin’ enjoy the drugs Wanna get high with the Blankster? F*ck that The door closed, all you b*tch ni**as and you fake h*es South Park Coalition, that’s us Remember that when you start talkin’ ‘bout Houston and don’t mention us [Verse 14] I’m suffering, my heart is in pain I’m a madman ‘cause the whole world is insane I read scriptures ‘cause decisions come too hard Money, cash, currency — which is our true god? Good or bad, right or wrong, life’s a seesaw Sometimes the straight and narrow path has a detour My mind clicks like a snare with a mob kick Ideas spark like a high hat constant The city breeze, the streets are a part of me Danger don’t bother me, there’s ice water in my arteries I mean-mug a alligator like he did something Stared a cobra eye to eye, dared him to spit something [Verse 15] [?] spit hot lava disperse Rough like [?] tryna quench a thirst Must release a verse among the first Clicked up fools puttin’ up in a hearse Pressure bust pipes where the sh*t done burst These fools right here are the worst Claim your turf, we claim the earth Hardest clique b*tch from the birth Only curse is spittin’ the truth Call the laws when in the booth Soft ass h*es pray to live This track missing one thing, AC Chill [Verse 16] Ni**as always ask me why I kick this psycho sh*t I got a axe with ten blades that I might go get If I explain it to you, ni**a, then you will get hit Tell your mama it’s a black dress she needs to go get When it sticks in, that motherf*cker makes me proud Spray blood so thick and far it looks like a cloud And I love ‘em so much that I named all ten But I won’t say they names ’til they all go in and come out The brains left [?] for stains And that’s the reason why I gave ‘em ten different names Like Becky, Robert, Kevin, Michael and Drew Keisha, [?], K-Rino, you name the last two uh [Verse 17] It all started In the kitchen with a mission, tryna beat the competition Treat it like a job so I can retire with a pension Hit the block with a [?], four oz’s in my pocket I’m outta control, you just can’t stop me J. Water in this b*tch and I’m spittin’ on the mic And I promise that I can do it all night Yeah motherf*ckin’ ni**as, SPC When you lookin’ for that white girl, come see me I’m a beast in these streets, monster in this motherf*ckin’ game When they call me, I let them bullets rain No matter the consequences, I’m still here Sippin’ syrup, smoking’ herb in the atmosphere, yeah, hahh [Verse 18] I politick when it come to spit these rhymes Boy talkin’ about my rep, man, ‘cause they ain’t got a style like mine I’m the new generation, I got the remedy to rep No disabilities, only the ability to snap I'll take words and abstract, you can call me analyst Boy talkin’ ‘bout they gon’ run when they peters can’t even spit sh*t Ni**as like the way I rip this, my tongue I flip it Yeah they like the way I spit it [Outro: K-Rino] See, how many times have we done this, man? How many clique songs have you heard over the years from the South Park Coalition? All the way down, slipped into a coma murder script Name on a bullet, the original South Park Coalition This what we do, man So all the rappers around the world, y’all keep on makin’ y’all clique songs, man Let’s keep this thing going, we can keep throwing Keepin’ that work in, mash on these tricks, yeah, haha, that’s it, it ain’t enough room in this booth for all us