Latin Throne Songtext
von SPM

Land of dum dum is where I come from
Believe me when I tell you that you don′t want none son
A long hard road 4 this Latin Throne
You can catch me at the club in the back alone

Mama's, don′t let your babies grow up 2 be gangsta's
Killer's taught us 2 not give a fuck
Hit ′em up with sign language
Reach 4 the stainless, Leave ′em brainless
I'm just explainin′ how the game is

The strangest of things come 2 me at no surprise
Fuck peashooters all my gats are superiszed
Utilize all my allies, I run with the bad guys
I got 7 Dope House's that′s a franchise

Man cries if he was blessed with a heart
But I lost mine in the backstreets of South Park
Once again it's Mr. SPM
And this shit ain′t gonna stop until I'm dead or in the pen

He's a hustler, He′s a baller, He sits on the Latin Throne
He′s a hustler, he's a baller, He sits on the Latin Throne


We shootin′ stars, runnin' from cop cars
I got scars jumpin′ metal gates and sharp pars
The hood is ours, save my pennies in a pickle jar
Everyday you see me in a different crackhead's car

So bizzare how so many bullets missed my head
I told my mom that I′m gonna stick with this instead
Fuck the crackrock, I rapped and hit the jackpot
Now I'm on a plane writin' on my laptop

It′s all wiggy rockin′ city to city
But I still feel my past catchin' up with me
Got mo′ ends, bought my mom a gold Benz
But she worried cause I still got all my old friends

Hopin' that I slow up and change one day
But these Hillwood streets got me raised one way
I told my lady one day we gon′ be like the Brady's
But for now I′ll teach you how to use this 380.

He's a hustler, He's a baller, He sits on the Latin Throne
He′s a hustler, He′s a baller, He sits on the Latin Throne

3 years and countin' I been drinkin′ from the music fountain
The Dope House sits in Houston like a fuckin' mountain
Who you doubtin′? This browns comin' out the south
I got nine believers with they foot in they mouth


I break guineses, keep ′em off my premesis
Used to be menaces, now our dreams limitless
Isn't this a trip? Not a slipper or a sleeper
Niggas wantin' dope still hittin′ up my beeper

We can overcome the ghetto, even G′s without a mother
Bread without butter I came crawlin' out a gutter
Born hustler, used to drive an old gas guzzler
Fresh out the hood, I was sellin′ dope last summer

Servin' zombies all followin′ as big as Yhandi's
Now I′m throwed diggin' brunettes and blondies
Jammin' Jon B with bottles of Dom P
The day of the wetback has striked upon thee.

He′s a hustler, he′s a baller, he sits on the Latin Throne
He's a hustler, he′s a baller, he sits on the Latin Throne
He's a hustler, he′s a baller, he sits on the Latin Throne
He's a hustler, he′s a baller, he sits on the Latin Throne