Boys on da Cut - SPM, Ayana

I woke up quick, at around two

Jumped in my Benz, picked up DJ Screw

Boys out there, makin' them tapes

Separate the real niggas from the fakes

My boy just got out, did a flat ten

And he just can’t stop talkin' bout that pen

My best friend but time destroys all men

Now he don’t give a fuck about goin' again

It ain’t all good but I ain’t missin' no money

I’m just a thug motherfucker and you can’t take nothin' from me

Somebody once said they wanna see me dead

The next week they found the boy with two holes in his head

I break bread with my killas in the H-TX

It’s the SP-Mex, in the all black stretch

Known for my purity, pride and security

A house costs as much as one piece of my jewelry

'Cuz the boys on the cut don’t give a fuck

You come talkin' that shit, your eyes get shut

Boys out there, slangin' that yay

Only pussy motherfuckers say that crime don’t pay

'Cuz the boys on the cut don’t give a fuck

You come talkin' that shit, your eyes get shut

Boys out there, slangin' that yay

Only pussy motherfuckers say that crime don’t pay

The time has come and the day is here

Two thousand one, is my motherfuckin' year

I come from the head, it’s the boy named Los

The one that got everybody on they toes

Straight up and still I sell dope for a livin'

In the form of a compact disc, fuck prison

No more savin' cans, no more collectin' pennies

I’ll have your fuckin' clique hollerin' «Who killed Kenny?»

For my gangsta bitch that I just met

She ridin' my dick, chuckin' up her set

I dance with the wolves, this is for my hood

Got the whole world fiendin' for the dope I cut

'Cuz the boys on the cut don’t give a fuck

You come talkin' that shit, your eyes get shut

Boys out there, slangin' that yay

Only pussy motherfuckers say that crime don’t pay

Fire, we on fire

We ain’t gone stops droppin' these bombs

Fire, we on fire

We ain’t gone stops droppin' these bombs

I was twelve years old when I did my first jack

And I don’t think that bitch ever got her purse back

With fifteen rocks, I bought my first car

Cooked my first batch of dope in a pickle jar

It’s like uno, dos, tres, young Happy Perez

Got me sellin' this dope to anyone on two legs

Boys talkin' down but I give two fucks

Step in my face, I put you in an all-black tux

Layin' in a casket, hard as a rock

My lead, hit’cha head and make it snap, crackle, and pop

Now how many times do I have to tell ya?

All my life I’ve been called a failure

My freestyle flow, is so untouchable

I just got out the county jail two months ago

Now I’m in the studio, just like Julio

In the city where them bitches never won a Super Bowl

Man I can’t stop, I’ma keep on droppin'

Seven of my bitches at the same mall shoppin'

At the galleria, tell me have you seen her?

I fuck a country singer and a Houston ballerina

Plus a fine ass China, I used to be a dreamer

Now I bought my Mom and Dad a navigator and a beamer

Leave a mark in this game, Aztec Indian

I don’t give a fuck 'cuz every month I make a million

Fire, we on fire

We ain’t gone stops droppin' these bombs