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Block Of Rock II
by
South Park Mexican
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Lyrics
For years, I've been working on the block of rock For years, I've been keeping nina Glock on c*ck For years, I've been working on the block of rock For years my n***a, for years. H-Town is the only place in this world Where you can buy Screwed and Chopped Christmas Curls That's how we love it here Sippin' syrup, f**k a beer Getting buck, IC cup Hydro in the tupperware Born with 2 bowling balls Flier than the motocross 1st key was on the front Now I pay the total costs Started off mowing lawns Then drove around in stolen cars Momma like, "what's going on?" All my homies closing cons Told you haters more than twice I'll chop you up, throw you over rice Disappear likе poltergeist Put you in a hole with opеn eyes Now in days coke and ice is teaming up with that rock Have you on the street tryna sell yo Momma laptop And this sh*t just can't stop Addiction is a force That marries motherf**kers and won't let them get divorced The street is a beast, and you're playing in its stomach As you hear the voices calling you, You can't make them shut up. For years, I've been working on the block of rock For years, I've been keeping nina Glock on c*ck For years, I've been working on the block of rock For years my n***a, for years. Move Coke to the Cola Mix it with the baking soda 9 pack is a Quarter Pack 9 in a hosta Dope House Ponderosa Is a ranch in the valley Make moves in the alley And I bury 'em like Hally Killas that blow brains And it's never gon' change Come to Hillwood where we live in the Stone Age Turning the wrong page And burning the bomb pay Its 24/7, you get murdered in broad day My paint is lavender but my seats more purpler If you want me to front ya I'ma need your furniture I be quick to pull up in a dope fiends truck Open up the tailgate Load it up, load it up I need your washer and dryer and mostly all that you got They like, "man you only fronted me a 10$ rock" Pocket full of stones More cheese than enchilada I'ma stack more chips then f**king Erica Stratta. For years, I've been working on the block of rock For years, I've been keeping nina Glock on c*ck For years, I've been working on the block of rock For years my n***a, for years. [Verse 3] 17 bullets And it drops a veal door Blasted so much that my Glock is still sore Talking real war You gots to jail more The dollar in your hand, I will rob and kill for The Cops they feel more, afraid to creep Especially through Hillwood where they play for Keys See we sleep deprived and keep the company running 'cause it's hard to close your eyes when the money keep coming The block is so hot that is sizzles my nizzle And talking that shizzle, gets you hit by the Missile Need bondo from the pistol On the console, Put me in the cross hold I put you in a Taco They say they got Los but that just isn't so So if they ask if I'm dead Tell them b*t*hes, no I'm on the kitchen floor Walking on my tippy toes Thinking, "one day I'ma put this on a video." For years, I've been working on the block of rock For years, I've been keeping nina Glock on c*ck For years, I've been working on the block of rock For years my n***a, for years *Knocking* Hey, Los Hey Los, you there? *Dog barking* Ah, sh*t man, damn, my bad, my bad *Dog barking fades out*
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