[Intro: Uncle Howie]
When you can smoke it too you can mix
Heroin with crack and smoke it, same thing as coke
And it's, it's called chasing the dragon
Almost the same thing, y'know
Cause it hits you that quick
[Ill Bill]
Coka mythology, murder world, Uncle Howie in the big park
The other kids knew the sh** that he sparked
Crack is the new sh** on the block, they pitched and he copped
Lost his mind, got high as f** and lit up the spot
So when I caught him smokin crack in my crib, I kicked him out
Almost kicked his a** but then I decided not to for what?
Then he bounced with a tear in his eye
I remember thinkin the next time I see his face I hope he's alive
So lost in the excitement, no shame
f** society's indictments and f** you too, if you don't like it
That's his attitude, that's his outlook
In and out of Rikers Island all throughout my childhood, a wild dude
I've done every drug you can name, except dope and crack c**aine
I gotta thank Uncle Howie for that
After seein what he did to his life I stepped back
Thank God I never got caught up or went back
But, weed is still a problem, I'm hooked on kush
Hooked on chronic, rollin up the purple in the blunt
I'm Chinese in the eyes Lebanese with the nines
American with the rhymes Brooklyn 'til I die
[Hook: Sick Jacken] *
Esto son corridos de los mas idos, los mas locos
Y son pocos, lo que no estan torcidos
A los narcos borrachos y cocodrilos
No escogimos la vida simplemente fuimos nacidos
Se que la vida es dura y siempre esta la duda
Yo sigo siendo quien soy hasta que deje viuda
[Translation] *
This are among the more hardcore corridos, the craziest
And there are few that arent corrupted
By drunk drug dealers and c**aine junkies
We didn't choose to live, simply, we were born
I know that life is hard, and there's always doubt
I'm gonna keep being myself 'til my wife is a widow
[Sick Jacken]
He was a Mexican, first generation, the kid was 10
Used to play tools and mix booze for pop and his friends
A mixmaster, yeah the kid was nice with the blends
Just ice with two Cokes, a Super Socko with gin
The streets saw a future narco in him
He saw his father's bad habits and went to cycle followin them
The bottle and the women and sin
And the domestic violence, the silence of the music when it begins
The alcohol was a part of his life, bigger than Christ
Cause when he needed to cope, he turned to the vice
From a teen pregnancy to when his brother died twice
He kept rollin the dice under the influenced rice
He went from this close to k**in himself, to barely dodgin d**h
The scent of some liquor probably taint his last breath
I feel less sympathy as time pa**
The more I see his reflection every time I look in the gla**
[Hook]
[Uncle Howie]
Oh God
The pack lasted like an hour, heh
(What that's the whole pack?)
There's no cigarettes in it
(Well how many cigarettes did you smoke out?
Were you chain smokin 'em?)
Nah I was sharin it
(Oh well we can get more)
Yeah