Brownside - Creepin' | Текст песни

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• Brownside
• Creepin'

Kicking it, strap on my side and I`m so high
Thinking bout them putos that tried to do the drive-by
Creeping in the alley, ese this ain`t the valley
Cholos are deep in a fucking brown Caddie
Drop to the floor, a fucking four door
(There`s some putos we jump)
Ese they`re coming for more petho
Watch real close as I level
His head to the seat, my quette he hands me
Six feet deep is where this culo stays
Although in a coma for a couple of days, anyways
That`s what I see on 21 Street, where we meet in the big SC
South Central is loco represento
The crazy ass Eastside is in your fucking mental
Lento, but harder than a motherfucker
Catch me on a bad day knockin out a clucker

[Chorus x2]
Creepin through my neighborhood
Quette on my side, always up to no good
On the Eastside, where the balas fly
Only true gangsters ese, I don`t lie

Now all you cholos know we gotta handle our streets
Always keeping trucha cuz the black and whites creep
All gotta pay dues, think it`s time to take a cruise
Bensando in my hand, fuck them fools
They throw a rat on the fucking murder rap
Now it`s time for us to go on back
Simon, we`re the ones you putos can not stand
I`m coming to get you with a quette in my hand
Damn there he goes, stop, I go, I caught his ass quick
Nada me duro puro, blu blu to his stomach I stuck
Two balas at first then one on top for luck
Fuck I gotta go, this puto needs no more
To make our escape we just drove away slow
We gotta handle ours, leaving scars
Q-Vo to the homies behind bars

[Chorus x2]

As I light and hit the sherm stick
I sit back and think of doing crazy shit
So we roll, and it`s late at night
Got my little homey Sharp, and Wicked by my side
Rolling in the G-ride heading out the East Side
Ahora en la noche some bendejo dies
Simon, it`s all a gang trip
If you`re in it and you know it say "you better not slip"
Crazy cholos don`t give a fuck
Simon, fuck the juras my dick they can suck
Straight gang-banging till the day I die
Senor Wes I`m innocent, I don`t lie
Big pantalones, creased out, t-shirts
Hitting it with the homies always putting in work
Sur, X-Tres is where the fuck I roam
Los Angeles (East Side) is where I call my home

[Chorus x2]

Enemigas try and fade, when we show up they run away
I guess they seen us coming with our guns ready to spray
You look like a bitch when you run from us
I know you know we got guns that bust
Plus you know I`ll peel your fucking cap
Didn`t catch you yesterday but I`ma get you off the map
So strap, cuz they only way you`re lasting if you`re fucking blasting
Never recognize me cuz I`m always masking on a mission
All the santos missing, then they shoot this fool and then start dissing
Display my motherfucking gangster`s way
Spit on his ass, tu pinche madre
Just like that, making putos disappear
Y que, at least I`m still here
No fear, those majotes and my Mexican Pride
Jump in the lowride and cruisin through my East Side

[Chorus x2]

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