Revenge lyrics

Artist  : South Park Mexican 
Song : Revenge
 
First Verse: 

My homie called me in the morning from a hospital
bed 

He got holes in his body from a glock full of
lead 

He said, three motherf**kers that his lady knows 

Tried to jack his as* for his 84's 

Now in a Ben Taub sick bed, my homie lays up 

He got sprayed up, cuz he wouldn't raise 

Caught three of the seven of the shots that rang 

Them folks sayin' that he'd never walk the same 

It sounds like a job for the uzi gat 

And where the f**k did your bit*h say these fools
be at? 

For a real long time, we been the best of friends


And I'll be damned if a nigga don't get revenge 

I feel anger, that I'm no stranger to 

Bustin' slugs in they guts just a thang to do 

Why they pray for you, come and spray they crew 

Got love for my homies, I thought you knew? 

He said 'Los don't sweat it, let this sh*t
alone,' 

but with these punk motherf**kers I must pick a
bone 

Now will it be the cranium or the chest plate? 

Necks break back, snap, put him in checkmate 

Lead take me to vengeance, send this 

Ripping through tendons I end this 

Because you bleed inside and it hurts to cough 

I can't take no advice I gots to break them off 

Chorus: 

Cuz my revenge, it tastes so sweet, I gotta do, 

What my friends, would do for me, 

You muthaf**kas gotta beg, 

Y'all askin' for action, 

Eat a f**kin' K, 

I'm blastin' some asses 

Cuz my revenge, it tastes so sweet, I gotta do, 

What my friends, would do for me, 

You muthaf**kas gotta beg, 

Y'all askin' for action, 

Eat a f**kin' K, 

I'm blastin' some asses 

Second Verse: 

My niggas check me, I'm thinkin' of a master plan


I'm straight up blastin' glocks, them f**kin'
bastards ran 

I'm steady missin' all my homies that done bit
the dust 

Got revenge cuz them bit*hes wasn't sh*t to us 

Now what the f**k can I accomplish? 

And when I'm dead, will I find myself on God's
list? 
 

Every night I give, thanks I wouldn't die today 

Turnin' cane into crack and my mic away 

We dealin' cuz we feelin' that the, pay's right 

Hopin' Mama never see me at my, grave site 

No daylight, play night cautiously 

Could be death, or my freedom what it's costin'
me 

Lost in dear life my wife be that Mary Jane 

And my streets got me strollin' blueberry Lane 

Very same song sung in the South 

From the mouth of a hustler, never have I trusted
a 

Trick or a hoe or a dope fiend either 

Cuz they smoke like a beaver buildin' dams on the
river 

Live a, life of a 'G' til' the d - a - y 

Hittin' switches on the freeway high 

Don't reply cuz me don't give a f**k 

What you hoes got to say about me Hillwood funk 

Chorus 

Third Verse: 

Stop short in your tracks 

Gats got the place surrounded 

Sounded two warning shots, f**k on up and you'll
be grounded 

Pounded bodies with a bunch of twelve gauges 

Now her face is too straight in the f**kin' dog
cages 

Pages of my book, turn like the wind blows 

On the paper of a crook, muthaf**k them hoes 

Hittin' flows as a hustler, rose as a 'G' 

Saves his flows to big 8, now he scores half a ki


Some say in his head he got insanity inside 

But all it really be is mathematically inclined 

Look behind, you might find others takin' over 

Rookies movin' cookies, they whipped in baking
soda 

Baby learn the f**kin' rules, my cheese, is SOLID
AS A ROCK 

With my homies and we BALLIN' WITH A GLOCK 

Tenderoni phony fraud motherf**kers 

Best to get out the game, 'fore you die
motherf**kers 

Bustas trust us, but us hustlas trust no one 

You can sure run with no gun 

That be a nigga slow guns 

So roll one of them sweets 

Chug-a-lug on the eightball 

And see where this motherf**kin life is gonna
take y'all 

And haters might fall 

Chorus