Like This N Like That

It's like this and like that, the hood got my back Yeah I'm makin paper stacks, slangin masa like crack Yeah I'm makin paper stacks They said you've never been caught, boy you must be lucky But don't go parkin by my tires, you better hush puppy They never catch us all, it'll never stop Any time, any corner, baby I'm a set'up chop As long as that trunk go pop, as long as that trunk open I'm a steady be served and boy my hustle bone aint broken Flip it, flip it, flip it more that burger king We use this distribution, we be servin thangs The work is smuggled in my big belt buckle The border got the feds, but we the underground tunnels We pack the back, two trucks on the road So if they stop the first one, we lose half the load Systema, got ostrich seats in my beama I'm reppin for my people, you can put that on selena And right now they got us cleanin up katrina Yo kanye!, bush don't like mexicans eitha. It's like this and like that, the hood got my back Yeah I'm makin paper stacks, slangin masa like crack Yeah I'm makin paper stacks Stacks, rubberband them, tamales I still sell them So next year, I can pull up in a brown phantom Them boys can't stand him, cause he too too flashy Went from ashy to classy, to down right nasty (There he go, man he fittin' to get Jacked) Boyy, I wish you would Find More lyrics at www.sweetslyrics.com Monte Carlo pimpin wood, same color as pussy blood Slabs on driveway, that make em say ay wey Catch you on the highway, pendejas from the myspace Mouth wide open, tounge hangin like a pervert When they see the wrist, Skittles chain lookin like some churbert I sold the masa just to see how the paper feel David Copperfield, couldn't have copped a better record deal. It's like this and like that, the hood got my back Yeah I'm makin paper stacks, slangin masa like crack Yeah I'm makin paper stacks Lately, I've been havin rich people problems I made another couple million, hopin that will solve'em Promise, lookin to reject your favorite rap star Willy's chain, Paul's grillz, puffs house to Slim's car They lookin at me like where the fuck they found them Whoever the fuck signed them, I bet that they gon fire'em But it's official, big chile slash asylum You know the three digits, bitch you better dial'em. It's like this and like that, the hood got my back Yeah I'm makin paper stacks, slangin masa like crack Yeah I'm makin paper stacks Chingo Bling! The ghetto vaquero Por favor, believe it Tamale king pin, king pin, king pin.