Mi vida loca, sitting low in my troka My 4-9 bomba, getting bombed off the mota Or what you call it, "reifo, " estoy prendido Locked up in my own prison, man, I been torsido Might be a flaco, but I pack a putaso That's on my nickname, Lil Rob, my placaso I used to paint it like Picasso, pinche vato And back when I was hollow, I'm still malo, fuck tomorrow Hey, fuck tomorrow, holmes And the day that follows Veteran in the rap game, call me a veterano Yo soy Chicano Spittin' calo I can put you in the right direction, but can't hold your mano These pinche gangstas, cause they talkin' "Life's a gangsta" But Next year's don't talk, cause, talkin' just ain't gangsta What That's right It's ya homeboy, Ese Lil Rob San Diego, Califa, chrome boy Puttin' it down for the brown side of town That's right Twelve Eighteen Doce Diez y Ocho That's right, we put it down, loco Orale, holmes, I'm sippin' on patron It's Ese Daz, from the H.A., 3-1-0 Rollin' Cruisin' to the barrio The area that's scaring ya And you don't wanna go Show no mercy Like the veteranos We still kick it, throw on the sly, slick and wicked And turn up the oldies a little higher And drive a little slower like the O.G. lowrider Mi pluma tira sangre Historias de las calles War stories in the neighborhood Little locos up to no good We show no shame, put it down for the brown Chicano style, representing it proud That's what we do When we do You don't like it, fuck you, too Ten years in the game, it's all the same Fuck the fame Had a name I do it for the homies in the bombas, bumpin' tapes Wey What's up, Lil Rob It's only the beginning, homeboy A tip of the iceberg Get ready '07 '08 '09 But in 2010, I might just pull a ghost like the homie Ese Rich Rock Eh
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Copy to Clipboard: Mi vida loca, sitting low in my troka My 4-9 bomba, getting bombed off the mota Or what you call it, "reifo, " estoy prendido Locked up in my own prison, man, I been torsido Might be a flaco, but I pack a putaso That's on my nickname, Lil Rob, my placaso I used to paint it like Picasso, pinche vato And back when I was hollow, I'm still malo, fuck tomorrow Hey, fuck tomorrow, holmes And the day that follows Veteran in the rap game, call me a veterano Yo soy Chicano Spittin' calo I can put you in the right direction, but can't hold your mano These pinche gangstas, cause they talkin' "Life's a gangsta" But Next year's don't talk, cause, talkin' just ain't gangsta What That's right It's ya homeboy, Ese Lil Rob San Diego, Califa, chrome boy Puttin' it down for the brown side of town That's right Twelve Eighteen Doce Diez y Ocho That's right, we put it down, loco Orale, holmes, I'm sippin' on patron It's Ese Daz, from the H.A., 3-1-0 Rollin' Cruisin' to the barrio The area that's scaring ya And you don't wanna go Show no mercy Like the veteranos We still kick it, throw on the sly, slick and wicked And turn up the oldies a little higher And drive a little slower like the O.G. lowrider Mi pluma tira sangre Historias de las calles War stories in the neighborhood Little locos up to no good We show no shame, put it down for the brown Chicano style, representing it proud That's what we do When we do You don't like it, fuck you, too Ten years in the game, it's all the same Fuck the fame Had a name I do it for the homies in the bombas, bumpin' tapes Wey What's up, Lil Rob It's only the beginning, homeboy A tip of the iceberg Get ready '07 '08 '09 But in 2010, I might just pull a ghost like the homie Ese Rich Rock Eh
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