Brownside
Creepin'
Kicking it, strap on my side and I'm so highThinking bout them putos that tried to do the drive-byCreeping in the alley, ese this ain't the valleyCholos are deep in a fucking brown CaddieDrop to the floor, a fucking four door(There's some putos we jump)Ese they're coming for more pethoWatch real close as I levelHis head to the seat, my quette he hands meSix feet deep is where this culo staysAlthough in a coma for a couple of days, anywaysThat's what I see on 21 Street, where we meet in the big SCSouth Central is loco representoThe crazy ass Eastside is in your fucking mentalLento, but harder than a motherfuckerCatch me on a bad day knockin out a clucker[Chorus x2]Creepin through my neighborhoodQuette on my side, always up to no goodOn the Eastside, where the balas flyOnly true gangsters ese, I don't lieNow all you cholos know we gotta handle our streetsAlways keeping trucha 'cause the black and whites creepAll gotta pay dues, think it's time to take a cruiseLetras de cancionesBensando in my hand, fuck them foolsThey throw a rat on the fucking murder rapNow it's time for us to go on backSimon, we're the ones you putos can not standI'm coming to get you with a quette in my handDamn there he goes, stop, I go, I caught his ass quickNada me duro puro, blu blu to his stomach I stuckTwo balas at first then one on top for luckFuck I gotta go, this puto needs no moreTo make our escape we just drove away slowWe gotta handle ours, leaving scarsQ-Vo to the homies behind bars[Chorus x2]As I light and hit the sherm stickI sit back and think of doing crazy shitSo we roll, and it's late at nightGot my little homey Sharp, and Wicked by my sideRolling in the G-ride heading out the East SideAhora en la noche some bendejo diesSimon, it's all a gang tripIf you're in it and you know it say "you better not slip"Crazy cholos don't give a fuckSimon, fuck the juras my dick they can suckStraight gang-banging till the day I dieSenor Wes I'm innocent, I don't lieBig pantalones, creased out, t-shirtsHitting it with the homies always putting in workSur, X-Tres is where the fuck I roamLos Angeles (East Side) is where I call my home[Chorus x2]Enemigas try and fade, when we show up they run awayI guess they seen us coming with our guns ready to sprayYou look like a bitch when you run from usI know you know we got guns that bustPlus you know I'll peel your fucking capDidn't catch you yesterday but I'ma get you off the mapSo strap, 'cause they only way you're lasting if you're fucking blastingNever recognize me 'cause I'm always masking on a missionAll the santos missing, then they shoot this fool and then start dissingDisplay my motherfucking gangster's waySpit on his ass, tu pinche madreJust like that, making putos disappearwhy que, at least I'm still hereNo fear, those majotes and my Mexican PrideJump in the lowride and cruisin through my East Side[Chorus x2]
From Letras Mania