| Sep 21 - 08:53:32 |
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Character Archive Profile This character is no longer part of the game. |
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| Name: SaintMichael |  | |
| Rank: Unknown * | ||
| Level: 5 | ||
| Status: Dead | ||
| Home City: Unknown * | ||
| Wealth: Very Poor | ||
| Start Date: Oct 04, '14 19:26:29 | ||
| Last Active: Oct 13, '14 04:01 | ||
| Messages Sent: 868 | ||
| Threads / Posts: 7 / 21 (View Activity) | ||
Down with the Wardens Of The West Ride Or Die Mothafucker Go ahead and PP me, but if I see you and don't get my money Best believe I'm gonna fucking mug your ass Shit happens on these streets. You wanna be a bitch about it? Go cry to someone who actually gives a fuck. I'm Saint Michael, Ill talk to you, be your friend and shit. If that's what the fuck you wanna call it. I know I've killed, but haven't we all taken someones friend? Haven't we all killed somebody's brother? Don't be a fucking hypocrite and crucify me. You wanna get to know me? Just ask, or message me. I'm warning you already though I can be a fucking prick. My love goes out to all the Wardens Of The West. All the soldiers who have fell victim to a gunshot. All of those who chose to take their life. And all of those who still ride or die today. [Verse 1: Filero] I sell drugs with thugs, hittin' licks off tricks Workin' two jobs, a dope dealer and a pimp Mom beggin' me to stop Everyday So scared for me to walk Memory lane But mom, don't worry My tech protect well I told y'all one day this rap shit gone sell Cause my heart been broke from the start Since the day my father died when I was seven in the park So I wrote the book How to pimp hoes and kick doors And if I kill, well, that's just how that shit goes Pull your strap What am I supposed to sweat This the third time today that I come close to death Chorus: South Park Mexican Hustle Town, Hustle Town, the city of dreams Where we creep through the hood and we serve them dope fiends Hustle Town, the shit don't stop Roll rental cars and we keep the glock cocked Hustle Town, the city of dreams Where we creep through the hood and we serve them dope fiends Hustle Town, the shit don't stop Roll rental cars and we keep the glock cocked [Verse 2: South Park Mexican] Set 'em up, wet 'em up Etcetera Tell ya treasurer, "Empty the register" Shit's serious, I'll give your life a period Well here he is, it's the kid with experience Don't start shit Mistake me for an artist Flash in the dark, someone tell 'em where his heart is Blue light Who die? Tonight Maybe over two dice, maybe cause he blew fry On top of y'all with that Hillwood Mafia Hard hittin' hustlers Beat the drawers off of ya Knowledge While my shit be flawless Dope House Records Step into my office Repeat Chorus [Lord Loco] It's that boy Lord Loco, you know what I'm talkin' about (Yeah) Representin' that H-Town, with my boy SPM (H-Town, holmes) There's somethin' bout' a lot of frauds out there, you know what I'm sayin' (Man) So what you think 'bout them fraud ass niggas, Los? [Verse 3: South Park Mexican] You jackin' jaws I'm packin' balls Spark a spliff, I give more gifts than Santa Clause With a cold forty ounce and a sack of hay Chug a lug, for the thugs, who done passed away Mister Masterful, Mystical, Mexican Maniac Competition, you motherfuckers make me laugh {*laughing*} You'se a bitch if you hatin' on my Houston hits Fight devils like you with a crucifix Shoot this shit With a shotty, shake ya body Gun Kung Fu mixed with A.K. Karate I'm sorry But you the past like Atari As I smoke like Marley, stay Brown like Charlie Repeat Chorus
For years I've been working on the block of rock, For years I've been keeping nina glock on cock. [4X] For years homeboy, for years.... [Baby Beesh] Now if you wanna battle me then it's on, I'm blowed while I'm creeping up whip out my Tek so now you gone. You shouldn't have tried that set up now you ass is getting wet up, Cuz real G's from the SouthEast will leave you haters trying to get up You'll definitely get dealt with if your bitch ass has a death wish, And on your grave I tag it's the motherf*cking Rick that you don't mess with So let me keep stressing that lesson to all y'all players and y'all haters Haters keep watching y'all back and y'all players keep creeping and stacking that paper [Baby Bash] (Now) Now why do these haters wanna plex Why do they wanna be starting mess Get the f*ck out my face is what I suggest Cause I really don't think that you wanna test this Mex Coming straight out the South East side of that Tex, So if there's something you gotta get off your chest, It's best that you don't express it. It's hard enough for a Messican, So I really don't need all that plexing, There's all kinds of player haters out there so please wait let me tell you about those. First you got them fraud ass hoes, Then you got them fraud popo's, Then you got them fraud ass haterz in the street who just wanna plex and take yours [CHORUS 4X] [LOW-G] Guess who's back from the pen, Out to win, Sipping Gin with my kin folk, Gots the grin on my face when I come through If you ain't down with these G's motherf*ck you Cause there's a straight up struggle in my barrio, Second Ward getting high on the patio, And when I'm wet I'm a threat to a rival set, I get respect when I step with my new Tek, Don't sweat I check hoes daily, On the regular talking to your lady, On the cellular creeping on the Lowride, In the middle of the night with no lights, In the four-five, chilling at the Dope House Low-G is something you don't know about Little tricks on my dick twenty-four seven, Treat them like a bitch, and still got them hoes begging. Keep it real for my people, I fear no evil Staying high till I die flying like a eagle [CHORUS X4] [SPM] You're superficial talking about life with a pistol But youse a hoe living life clean as a whistle My missles, oh they do leave body dimples, Attack your whole staff like a pack full of pitbulls. You simple, I'm complex, And coming on next, Oh take a wild guess, The South Park Mex, Spark sess blow smoke in the darkness, You don't wanna start mess with the heartless, I be the smartest, hottest, artist. My GM shine brighter than the golden arches, Shooting star yes, Ol trick no blow indo Before they kick door, Then flip coke, Tip-toe to the top, Tellin thug tales of wicked love spells, Hoes and drug sales, Some fell, In fact it's most, So a toast to my brothas who died in the smoke
Associate of Wardens Of The West
For An Invitation To Michaels Brothel Contact Me in A Message No Cops Allowed
Bows his head to the soldiers who left this world to early.
Ryann-- Charles_Luciano
Much respect to these people.
My Redneck name according to Facebook is Jim Willie Joe You are the life of every party at the trailer park. Your sweet Southern drawl makes all the ladies weak in the knees. Spending times with your loved ones makes you happier than a pig in shit! You always find a reason to smile, even though you ain’t got no teeth!
To: SaintMichael How are u saint .. Ryann-- screams for the police like a little girl.
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* Some data was not recorded when this character was
still active and is no longer available.
still active and is no longer available.
