“Chicano Rap Oldies” (Ese 40'z - Verse) Throw on some oldies… And crease up my ropa… I'm steppin it razor… as I puff on mota… That cholo capita… The tan… With uh a white tee… And “Khaki Ben Davis”… I tell um, “Get like me…” See this cholero… So creased make my pants stand up… All on they own… I'm that vato from “Nasties” That 40… That “Ounce”… I'm a loco por vida… That Nuevo Meshika… Come straight out Artesia… I'm reppin that 5 Oh… That 5 it's survival… And putting it down… For my G's in the barrio… I'm keepin it “Nuevo”… But old on the code… Of the area we chillin… I'm droppin them flows… For the gangstas… The homies… The hynas and locas… To bump at the party… The kick back… Got cora… For all of my jente… Who bumpin my music… This “Hate Proof”… A psycho… a villain who's ruthless… And livin it crazy… My homeboy be Lazy… “Blue Devil” the ghetto's… The place we be fading… The 30's… The 40'z… The quarts and caguamas… Up early… No sleep… On the porch with insomnia… And I wanna shout out… To homeboys in Chuco… And Fabens… And all of them places… I do go… Like Cali, Nevada, and Colo… To Ay-Zee… This cholo show love… Ain't no one actin shady… The homie “Big Santos”… from East Side of Bolen… I'm sendin a Q'vo… You know how we rollin… It's up on the map… And you know it's all firme… All up on my rap… And I'm never conceited… To show love to people… Like all of my jente… Who post up in “T-town”… You're all represented… To many to name… So I shout everybody… Who threw me some skinah… When I had nobody… Cuz I come from the gutter… The slums… The bottom… When times were the roughest… No I ain't forgot um… The cholo estilo… I know where it's at… Soy Chicano… the raza all up on my track… I bump oldies and sing um… Rep “Artesia Krazies”… Repeat “Duke Of Earl”… Drinking brew in my “Stacys” This barrio… This real… Ain't no fakin the funk… On my face how I feel… “N.B.” clown… Getting drunk… I'm uh flow till the end… While I drink on uh chela… And when the beat ends… I'll just go acapella… I thrive off this vida… The way of the walk… In the barrio with homies… Ain't no need to talk… Cuz we livin it daily…Through thick and the thin… Some are gone to the grave… Others just hit the pen… But we know how it is… We just roll with the punches… And hold our heads high… “Duke Of Earl”… You don't want this… The solid… The firme… Official “Con Safos”… Keep trucha… No chingen… Con todos los vatos… De “N.B.”… We rep it… Yeah you know the name… And for those who don't know… “Ese 40'z”… no shame… In my game… When I'm hangin… A pano… With loccs on… You know what it is… I'm uh ride… I'm uh go strong… And pos I say chale… To hataz who smirkin… Ni modo… Me vale… We be the ones lurkin… Through the alleys and backstreets… Them levas they fear us… The hataz of cholos… Them fools can't get near us… I'm set in my ways… And no I won't just change… Jente pa** every day… And they stare at me strange… But I know who I am… I'm that wicked “Cuarentas”… “T-town… Ene Be”… Where I'm from… Foo que piensas?? That I would sell out… And pretend like I moved on… Then jump on the mic… And yell “Sike”… On a new song… Now that ain't the way… I'm uh keep it one hundred… Percent on this vida… Stay faded and blunted… I'm gone with the sickness… Done faded the skitz… Fifty-one Fifty… Psycho… With thirty round clips… I remember those days… I would say they're behind me… But trouble you know… Well it knows where to find me… But all's to the good… With this “G”… From the hood… All them times in the past… Wouldn't change if I could… So you know how it goes… Grab a brew… Get your drink on… If that's how you live… Barrio life here to think on… I drop all them rolas… That remix to oldies… To bump with them cholas… And all of the homies…