Charlie Row Campo, Fiesty 2 Guns, Midget Loco, Shady Boy - Last Day lyrics
[Charlie Row Campo, Fiesty 2 Guns, Midget Loco, Shady Boy - Last Day lyrics]
Yeah, I’m in a sixty-three bouncin’ to a beat
Los Angeles county where the gangstas meet
Shady Boy’s my placaso, the way that I creep
I’ll either end up in
Prison or end up six feet deep
Eleven five fifty off that methamphetamine
Enemigas let ‘em in bullet shells
Hit the scene
This the sixth letter dog, the muthafucken F
(flores) still gon’ bang that shit with
The ink in my flesh
This be Monte killa Cali Zamora park all day
Try to catch me, you ain’t creeping
Cause, I grip an AK
You hear the shots when they rang
Montе Flores be the gang
Eyеs low rims slow, do you really wanna bang?
It’s the wickie-wickie-west ese
That’s my queue
Ain’t my first time on the block
I know exactly what to do
Death before dishonor
I don’t know about defeat
6th letter on my dome
Charlie Row runs the streets
See the homies in the streets are calling now
I got a CD they think I’m ballin’ now
Try to live my life like my last day
And the streets keep calling my name
Even though we try and hustle
Don’t think that we didn’t have to struggle
So pay attention to the words I say
Cause this could be my last day
Gang life murder rights
In that Boyle Heights
Killing spree we just just
To earn them stripes
Tattoos a bunch of skulls
With the violent crimes
Inked up in the skin Aztec Mexicans
Dip comprehend, could be life in the pen
Flats life be my life till my in
I lose my soul for the road and my varrio
Like C-G says "that’s on the serio"
I’m a gang member ese, got me putting it down
In the city of El Monte, my stomping grounds
Older homies giving clecha or
Making street wires
Don’t criticize this gangster just
For living his life
Surviving on the streets, it ain’t no joke
Every day you hear about
Another vato getting smoked
Funerals coming faster than holidays
Prayers for my jefa
Hoping that we live another day
See the homies in the streets are calling now
I got a CD they think I’m ballin’ now
Try to live my life like my last day
And the streets keep calling my name
Even though we try and hustle
Don’t think that we didn’t have to struggle
So pay attention to the words I say
Cause this could be my last day damn perro
Muthafucking streets are hectic ese
Muthafuckers dying everyday homie
That’s right this dedicated to all
Riders out there homeboy
(That’s right Charlie Row Campo)
From the city of the dub and we show no mercy
Ese times running out and the
Streets done cursed me
Yet another brown struggle in
A life so puzzled
G on welfare, so we forced to hustle
Tattoos on my dome, ain’t no place like home
Serving pierdas in the varrio
It’s that danger zone criminal tactics
We blast till the last man standing
You can ask my perro Twist
While we drunk and laughing
At the ranfla homeboy, like an Aztec play
Till the pistol barrel smoking
Loco what can I say?
I try to do what’s right
But the streets is calling
Got a CD out and now they think I’m balling
But the truth of the matter is
Your a driver I’m a killer
They drive me to killa
Neighborhood brain spilla
Ain’t no studio in mine
If you think so test me
You ain’t even impressing
Little locos is flexing
See the homies in the streets are calling now
I got a CD they think I’m ballin’ now
Try to live my life like my last day
And the streets keep calling my name
Even though we try and hustle
Don’t think that we didn’t have to struggle
So pay attention to the words I say
Cause this could be my last day
Los Angeles county where the gangstas meet
Shady Boy’s my placaso, the way that I creep
I’ll either end up in
Prison or end up six feet deep
Eleven five fifty off that methamphetamine
Enemigas let ‘em in bullet shells
Hit the scene
This the sixth letter dog, the muthafucken F
(flores) still gon’ bang that shit with
The ink in my flesh
This be Monte killa Cali Zamora park all day
Try to catch me, you ain’t creeping
Cause, I grip an AK
You hear the shots when they rang
Montе Flores be the gang
Eyеs low rims slow, do you really wanna bang?
It’s the wickie-wickie-west ese
That’s my queue
Ain’t my first time on the block
I know exactly what to do
Death before dishonor
I don’t know about defeat
6th letter on my dome
Charlie Row runs the streets
See the homies in the streets are calling now
I got a CD they think I’m ballin’ now
Try to live my life like my last day
And the streets keep calling my name
Even though we try and hustle
Don’t think that we didn’t have to struggle
So pay attention to the words I say
Cause this could be my last day
Gang life murder rights
In that Boyle Heights
Killing spree we just just
To earn them stripes
Tattoos a bunch of skulls
With the violent crimes
Inked up in the skin Aztec Mexicans
Dip comprehend, could be life in the pen
Flats life be my life till my in
I lose my soul for the road and my varrio
Like C-G says "that’s on the serio"
I’m a gang member ese, got me putting it down
In the city of El Monte, my stomping grounds
Older homies giving clecha or
Making street wires
Don’t criticize this gangster just
For living his life
Surviving on the streets, it ain’t no joke
Every day you hear about
Another vato getting smoked
Funerals coming faster than holidays
Prayers for my jefa
Hoping that we live another day
See the homies in the streets are calling now
I got a CD they think I’m ballin’ now
Try to live my life like my last day
And the streets keep calling my name
Even though we try and hustle
Don’t think that we didn’t have to struggle
So pay attention to the words I say
Cause this could be my last day damn perro
Muthafucking streets are hectic ese
Muthafuckers dying everyday homie
That’s right this dedicated to all
Riders out there homeboy
(That’s right Charlie Row Campo)
From the city of the dub and we show no mercy
Ese times running out and the
Streets done cursed me
Yet another brown struggle in
A life so puzzled
G on welfare, so we forced to hustle
Tattoos on my dome, ain’t no place like home
Serving pierdas in the varrio
It’s that danger zone criminal tactics
We blast till the last man standing
You can ask my perro Twist
While we drunk and laughing
At the ranfla homeboy, like an Aztec play
Till the pistol barrel smoking
Loco what can I say?
I try to do what’s right
But the streets is calling
Got a CD out and now they think I’m balling
But the truth of the matter is
Your a driver I’m a killer
They drive me to killa
Neighborhood brain spilla
Ain’t no studio in mine
If you think so test me
You ain’t even impressing
Little locos is flexing
See the homies in the streets are calling now
I got a CD they think I’m ballin’ now
Try to live my life like my last day
And the streets keep calling my name
Even though we try and hustle
Don’t think that we didn’t have to struggle
So pay attention to the words I say
Cause this could be my last day