歌词
[Verse 1]
I got these motherfuckers staring at me
Should I hit 'em up with the heat
And leave 'em dead in the streets?
I think they 'bout to be deceased
But they some motherfucking wannabes, fool
I seen 'em crying when my homie put a gat to his face
Somebody lying, everybody dying, trying to get slick
I put the clip in and squeezed to my shit don't kick
Reload and trip some more
Lord, forgive me 'cause I love the way the gun blow
Kissing on my automatic, clicking where her trigger go
Blow your motherfucking head off
I'm bout to set it off
Twenty hollow points in your brain
I'm 'bout to let 'em off
You motherfuckers ain't shit trying to be hard core
You think you're bad 'cause you let your bullets rip
Through my front door
I think you tryna disrespect me
I leave that ass leaking, go on and test me
I rest in peace any enemies
And leave 'em blind
That's what you get for tryna fuck with mine
[Verse 2]
I trust no man, all by my solo, fuck a crime partner
You gotta just know just who is real and the ones that go rata
You know them little rats that got your back but start to run
You know them little lives that shit their pants when shit pops off
Ask yourself is everyone down with your team
He might look real mean but their looks, they deceive
The biggest baddest locos get their head bashed in
Seen some of the best of 'em
Get tossed in the trash cans
See, it's not what you say, it's what you can prove
It's not what you got, 'cause it's what you can loose
A puto dies a thounsands times, a soldier dies once
It's hard to show love
When the push comes to shove
You might be bonded by blood
But you're bound by your honor
If you can't hold your ground
Then your ass is a goner
It's just that envying mind
That's when evil accurs
But for what he receives
Then I guess he deserves
[Verse 3]
Conocí a un tal güero que tenía mucho dinero
Cocaína de Colombia, cinturón hecho de cuero
Le decían el mero mero con sus botas de culebra
Cuerno de chivo en el dedo para protejer su yerba
Trato hecho con respeto, coca, chiva, marihuana
Nos esperan en Nevada si cruzamos la Tijuana
Veinte kilos de la buena, quince metros pa' llegar
Ponte listo, jalisqueño, no te vayas a rajar
Le enseñé mi mica chueca, no nos dejaron pasar
Pero chinguen a su madre, a mí me tienen que matar
Le apunté y disparé, yo no lo pude creer
Cayó muerto en el suelo, lo pateé como Pelé
Cuando pensé que por seguro estábamos torzidos
Salió el güero bien prendido, disparó el cuerno de chivo
El güero, no los dejes vivos, si no maman, me la pelan
Traficantes más chingones siempre cruzan la frontera
Written by: Marcos Rojas
