Simon! Y para un frijol eating cabron
Cyclone pelon chingon
And all that
the local cholo went solo
but I came back
With Mexican Militia on my hat
A baseball bat
it's on cause Chicanos gotsta scrap
Ready to beat down ready to shoot
ready to burn down ready to loot
And won't stop til my point's understood
And I ain't gonna do it in my own neighborhood.
I'm gonna do it where they'll be affected,
Until some civilized muthafuckas are elected
Frank V's loking up,
For years Chicanos have been broken up,
It's the different gangs different sections
But wait til we get together,
Muthafucken Mexicans!
Hey Frank, kick back on the lyrics,
You a lil' too hype on them, just relax, relax
Fuck that shit man chale!
Gimme my cuete, so I can do a jale,
But not on someone Brown from another town,
But on them muthafackas that try to keep the raza down.
I gotta pay em back,
I got my stolen ride and I grabbed my stolen gat,
Jacked a 12 pack and now I'm ready to attack.
I heard he called me a wet back,
Now he's gonna get cracked.
He said that my race was no good,
So now I'm on my way to a rich neighborhood.
With my nine milli,
about to act silly,
and get raw like the outlaw Billy
the kid,
you know what did?
I went to square it off with a gringo who hates me,
Took my last sip took my cuete off safety,
Seen him with his wife coming out of the casa,
and I said boo-ya! This is for the raza!
And drove off at a highway speed.
I'll be damned if the pinche jura catch me.
Cause they just love, to pull over a Latin
And hope he starts runni
