Wicked (musical)

Wicked (musical) - Bald And Brown songtekst

Je score:

Q-Vo Raza 

You motherfuckers can call me Wicked 

Representando en las pinches calles 

This is for the cholas 

And the pelones bandieros 

You know who you motherfuckers are 

Q-Vo 

Here to represent 

Los Angeles, Sur California 

It's still dos uno tres 



About that time to jump out of bed 

Blood shot my eyes, realized I had to shave my head 

Those that know show how nuestras calles roll 

While you're in the game ese you claim where you're from 

Still the same since the pinche pedo started 

Obsorbing thoughts with shots, but won't say it scarred it 

Living it, giving it, a voice for our street 

Won't except defeat, this loco craves the creep 

With me you roll with a flow that runs slow 

To understand me loco, 213 controla 

The streets where bandieros meet 

Boom, beat, embrace defeat 

Pistolas bust caps, ese we be rhyming raps 

In court fools still squeal, consider them rats 

That's just some shit found and the Brown's where we clown 

This rola's for cholas the and those bald and brown 



[Chorus x2] 

Bass turned up to bump Brownside sound 

Let them know all around we're the bald and brown 

Men, and our bandiero trend 

Is M-E-X-I-C-A-N 



Se ponle loco, where we roll some putos just don't know 

We give a fuck tambien, Eastside South Central 

We creap, lurk, kick up dirt, making putos hurt 

These pinches locos call it putting in work 

Uno saben, otro saben their pistolas pound 

Pull the malditos down with no evidence found 

No crees, pero loco got two to the chest 

Now deceased is where that motherfucker rest 

Next to his homey, packing este, lonely 

Pointing and telling the judge that they both know me 

Trip, two culitos, neta ain't shit 

Cuz through their barrio all they got was a dick 

We hit, dip, catch a stupid slipping 

Pop the clip in, pelones are tripping 

Again, puro pinche Mexican 

On the creep, staying deep for my Sureno land 



[Chorus x2] 



White t-shirt, Cortez, and my Levis 

Once I shave my head I've completed my disguise 

In your eyes you realize que controlo 

South Califas con nuestras clickas de cholo 

Solo aveces, but not all the time 

Wanna know what's on my mind, ese get out of line 

A Brownside'll bump it, here to prove something 

Vatos from Sur California always dumping 

Car to car or even in the street 

So trucha motherfuckers cuz it's on when we meet 

Heat protected, I never neglect it 

The fact that this loco don't know how to act 

Just strap and smoke weed to make my eyes bleed 

Sin semilla, that means no fucking seed 

I light it and smoke it until I choke 

No feria in my pocket, damn I gotta get some dough 



[Chorus x2] 



Hell yea 

Ya saben quien es 

El pinche maldito, representando de las calles 

Lado cafe
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Taal: Engels

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