on some barrio shit - ese 40'z lyrics
[intro]
i’m just a soul, whose intentions are good
oh lord, please don’t let me be misunderstood
[verse 1]
creeping through the land, nuevo mex on the stilo
chilling with the homies, getting faded, acting evil
just a bunch of psycho-lokos, on a mission for disaster
puro desmadre on the streets, just a life filled with laughter
all my locos in the valle, just a bunch of pistoleros
popping shots off, in the calles, letting off the f-cking cuernos
this is do or die loco, in the streets of the juego
repping “nuevo” on the serio, f-ck a panochero perro
living life, pain inflicted, ain’t no rest for the wicked
all the homies getting twisted, and the hynas down to kick it
roll-rolling in the noche, in the land of enchantment
cinco cero cinco where there ain’t no gang enhancement
so f-ck the law, head shaved pandillero
with the ink on my cara, and the rhymes for the ghetto
snorting lines of guera, desert land lokera
blasting on a perra, make em hit the f-cking tierra
cuz i’m a soul on a wicked viaje, filled with liquor and another pasé
i take a trago, throwing up my lado
cuz i’m that vago, that be spitting it claro
so f-ck the rest, and all my enemigas
penetrate their flesh, and shoot em up like chiva
[hook] x2
on some barrio sh-t, a lost soul with good intentions
smile now, cry later, for the locos representing
on the calles with the heat, tucked under the seat
or on your f-cking waistline, every time that you creep
[verse 2]
on a mothaf-ckin gangsta trip, and did i mention?
that, i’m just a soul, with some good intentions
but i act so bad, when i’m gone off the pisto
psycho-villain, t-towneros kicking back with all my people
don’t misunderstand, what i say in these palabras
a gun in the hand, with a fist full of balas
for these chavalas, that wanna start pedo
rolling up on your spot, dumping hollows in your cuerpo
it’s a sickness, and we’re all infected
letting off with a quickness, fat slugs ejected
don’t let me be misunderstood, yeah i said that sh-t
we’ll cap a mutt b-tch too, throw a slug in her hip
i love them hot summer nights, in the land of the crystals
valley of death, where everybody packing pistols
gotta watch your back, in the belly of the beast
two s’s on my face, with my frisco county’s creased
forty ounce on my lap, and it’s freezing my b-lls
cruising down roselawn steady ducking the laws
got a fat blunt rolled, i took a hit and i thought
we’ll burn this mothaf-cka down, while the balas get popped
evil -ss plots, in these calles we’re dwellin
nine times out of ten, by age twelve you’re a felon
that’s just how it goes, with these crazy -ss souls
in t-town they stay high, always blazing gl-ss bowls
[hook] x2
on some barrio sh-t, a lost soul with good intentions
smile now, cry later, for the locos representing
on the calles with the heat, tucked under the seat
or on your f-cking waistline, every time that you creep
[outro]
i’m just a soul, whose intentions are good
oh lord, please don’t let me be misunderstood
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