Carlos Coy (born October 5, 1970), better known by his stage name South Park Mexican, is an American rapper, founder of Dope House Records, and convicted felon. His stage name is derived from the South Park neighborhood in Houston, Texas where he was raised.\r
Coy, his brother Arthur, and a friend founded Dope House Records in 1995; Coy debuted as South Park Mexican that same year with the album Hillwood under the label. His fourth album, The 3rd Wish, generated two charting singles, You Know My Name and High So High.\r
Lyrics to H-town G-funk :\r
[First Verse]\r
My sweet Lac fall back just creepin on three wheels\r
A bitch to my right cocked giving me cheap thrills\r
I see meals, coming down my path\r
In the ghetto cats wrath making math\r
Im the last to blast, on that ass now you the past\r
Its no joke you get smoked like buddah grass\r
Who the fastest punk em like cashes\r
And when I crash this you catch whiplashes\r
Bitch Im on a mission to listen and give descriptions\r
Hung Gs in my hood in their intentions\r
I hear gunshots ringing like hells bells\r
I see drug sells check out my thug tales\r
Fuck jails, bank swells keeps hella grip\r
And I can sell dope on ice, and never slip\r
They serving Kibbles N Bits while Im cooking bricks\r
Save my crumbs for the ones who sucking dicks\r
I made it rich on the ditch you quick snap\r
I left that cut now they wonder where the bricks at\r
My green shit stacks, still clip packs\r
Thirty-six lead homies so dont trip jack\r
Its the wet back hitting on the bongs\r
Son in the long run, Ill be the strong one.\r
\r
[Chorus: (4X)]\r
If you step in my hood bitch you will get blasted\r
Its nothin but that h-town g-funk\r
\r
(Yeah this is for all them hustlers in Hillwood, South Park. Huh.)\r
\r
[Second Verse]\r
I told yah, boy you must have caught amnesia\r
Trying to jack now youre on your back breathing anastesia\r
You got blasted cuz you trespassed it\r
They never lasted, in the game I mastered\r
You stupid bastard, tell me whats your final word\r
Before I let this lead tip hit your spinal cord\r
Oh you was ready just begging to gank me\r
Now your ass is just dead and stanky\r
I put my foot in your shit like the hokey pokey\r
Leave the scene, now everythings okie dokie\r
Your homies know me, but they wont fuck with this\r
Cuz now they know that I could show buck a bitch\r
Im the macker plus the gun packer\r
So you little jackers best stick to crackers\r
Cuz fucking with this mex gets your neck broke\r
Stuck like chuck straight fucked and in check Loc\r
Cuz I think fast when Im in the slow lane\r
Get in my domain and fall back with no brain\r
So dont raid, or try to rain on my parade\r
Cuz im strapped from my blade, to my grenade.\r
\r
[Chorus]\r
\r
[Third Verse]\r
My sweet Texas, restless, wanting to ride Lexus\r
Check this or flex this, I get wreckless\r
Unbelievable lyrical synical\r
Here we go mary go round I down critical\r
Street stamina dammin a cop\r
Slammin a punk, and jam in my funk\r
Im the man with the skill foreal\r
Guard my grill with steel, on Sundays I kneel\r
On my knees to Jesus, please seize us\r
Cuz my boys in trouble, and he needs us\r
Got a bat, my homies on the double\r
Punks want trouble, I bam bam rubble\r
Still the son of a gun having big fun\r
Come and get some, I leave you wet mon\r
Fill your lead with an infared\r
I put the best to bed, they call him dead fucking fred\r
Shed my skin like a snake on a vine\r
Climbing on the crime side, coming around the blind side\r
We fall in ranks like a motherfucking pyramid\r
And Im the top block will I stop never did\r
Make you pass the 9th grade, but got life made\r
Chose that dope and I hope I picked the right trade.\r
\r
[Chorus]