lirik lagu muñeco loco - old skool
[muñeco loco ~ verse 1:]
i am a nightmare walking
psychopath talking
back from the dead now watch me climb up outta my coffin
i got more bullets in my belt than pancho villa
in my white tee pro club and creased up levis
stompin in your streets in my stacey’s down so smooth
wanna take some fl!cks of me cus i’m old~school
this is soul food, feeding your brain b~tch i’m insane
come and test me dawg i’ll make it a definition of pain
not too many people brave enough to be testin me man
shoot this b~tch with 2 guns like yosemite sam
and i got’em saying d~mn that’s a funky trunk
let me break down the punch for your chunky~b~tt
f~ck you up in a minute
break it down in a second
and l’ll show the whole world why muñecos thе best
it’s the the m thе u the ñ~e~c~o
came in this party as a guest but now i’m running the show
oh no, mad dog got your temperature rising
with my fire ass lyrics and it’s not surprising
burn this b~tch down when i spit the sh~t on the mic
make you feel like a b~tch getting turned out by a dyk~
aiyyo, the roof, the roof, the roof is on fire!
cus the pyro in this b~tch ain’t gon’ ever retire
(?) like you just don’t care
put your middle fingers to the ghetto birds in the air
and watch it burn mothaf~cka burn mothaf~cka burn mothaf~cka burn
came up first in this b~tch and it’s still my turn
i dont give a f~ck if you dont bump my sh~t i’ll probably still have my name on your punk ass lips
ey, órale vato this is for my chicanos in the varrio
listen as i sell you some calo
put on the cuetes homies
and pick up some clecha cus we’re smarter than these gueros sucking governemt tetas
wanna us in college
don’t wanna see our son in knowledge
wanna put us all in cages but were telling’em chales
a mi me vale madre
you ain’t taking us out
here’s a moment of silence for the white mans clout
no doubt we’ll takem out esé one by one
and well start with that full~bread punk named xrump
listen man i’m a mexican that’s the way that it is
and that’s the way it’s gonna be for me and my kids
i’m seeing grade f students
need a teacher for our class
since you fools be looking funny with the steve urkle’s glasses
chico make your raps look goofy like bob sagget
it’s coming from my n~ts~ck call it your mom’s basket
leave you in a dust and turn your ass into a b~st~rd
get ready for a funeral i’ll burn your f~cking casket
serve you like tamales guero your wrapped in plastic
don’t talk sh~t if you don’t wanna get your ass kicked
stompin in my boots what the f~ck you b~tches stepping for
n0body in particular is gonna make me check the score
take over the game with a couple firme metaphors
it comes easy to me this a neighborhood (?)
power is plotted by p~ssy and pulling the pistols
stacking the paper them presidents is out to get you
got me packing a glock
im bumping pakis on my playlist
(?)
there ain’t no stopping y’all can’t play this
running the streets
society been smoking crazy
if my girl’s grab my baby and i’m (?) somebody save me
be the intention i pack a strap and keep a weapon close
been overdosing inside my head over these written notes
flipping and flapping it’s f~cking rapping at it’s finest
so homeboy quit your yapping and bow down to the brightest
punks reacting at how i’m stacking all my paper
i ain’t gonna see the day that i’ll be (?)
f~cking with an alligator
keep in mind that i be living life
look at my future just like i’m looking at these city lights
mama asks how i’m doing and i tell her that i’m doing fine
she asks why i do it
i just tell her that i’m getting mine…
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