That Mexican OT - East End lyrics

Virgil René Gazca

[That Mexican OT - East End lyrics]

Bitch, I'm a pothead
If he say he want smoke, fuck it, drop dead
Hit him with hot lead
Told the bitch clean it up
And now the mop red
Yeah, I got the Glock hot like wasabi

Stop playin' with me, lil' whore
'Cause, I got a thang on me for sure
With the gang in the front
Don't run through the back door
Click-clack, pew pew, send 'em up to the Lord
Anybody wanna get it
They can come and get it
Poppin' at his fitted
Just know that I really be with it
Push up on your block and I'm unloadin' fifty
You act like a bitch
I'ma knock off your titties
I'm a Dirty Bay baby, I'm from Bay City
Pop me a Perc' and we 'bout to get litty
Off of this liquor, I'm 'bout to get jiggy
Bust open the Optimo, roll up some sticky
I'm Southside steppin', she say
She like Mexican, she like how I'm flexin'
She like, "OT, why you talk
Like that?" I'm like, "Bitch
I'm from Texas"
My AR-15 underneath my poncho
(Underneath my poncho)
Mi raza loco ridin' 'round with my vatos
(Ridin' 'round with my vatos)
That big ol' thooka eat 'em up like nachos
(Eat em up like nachos)
I'm the head honcho, you can call me Paco
(You can call me Paco) i'ma hit me some gas
Take it straight to the brain (Fah-fah-fah)
Leave 'em with bloodstains
Take your bitch to the crib
And I'm makin' her lay
I ain't talkin' 'bout Trump
But we runnin' the train
When I'm done with your bitch
I hit up where you stay
Kick it with white boys, yeah
I got three K's
Shout out my LoCos, Romeo and Cain
I put it on gang that we bringin' the pain
I got a bad mamacita, eat her up like fajitas
Slapwood look like tortillas
I'm geekin' like hyenas
I'm bodybuilding and I do it for low
Catchin' bullets from your head to your toe
Gangster in my blood, I won't ever fold
On my dead mama, boy, I ain't never told
Walk 'em down with a Glock
I'm hittin' 'em up with a stock
And now he outlined with the chalk
I'm a big dog bitin', I don't ever bark
Up it up with that thang
And I'm lettin' it spark
Swangin' and bangin'
Scrape the curb when I park
I'm a thief in the night
I come out in the dark
Too smooth when I groove
Can't be caught by a narc
Bullets flyin' and, yeah
He got hit in the heart
I shot at his stomach and it made him fart
Split open his wig, I'ma give him a part
Give a fuck what you said
I'ma up at his head
And I'm paintin' it red like
I'm doin' some art

Bitch, I'm a pothead
If he say he want smoke, fuck it, drop dead
Hit him with hot lead
Told the bitch clean it up
And now the mop red
Yeah, I got the Glock hot like wasabi

(Ayo, is that That Mexican OT?)

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