Ponle

I jump in my 1963 Chevrolet

Watch it lay, orale

On the floor, en el suelo

Lifts me off the ground just like a le駉, que no

Simon, packs much power just like mi cuete

Trece cuarenta y siete

You're all up in my mix ese, ya vete

Before you get sliced and diced with the machete

No te mesa, no se que no te importa nota pinche leva

Meet me wherever whenever's clever

Ponle homey, turn up the system

I got the Sureno blues rhythm

Ain't nothing quite like it, I like it

Something to bump to, get drunk to

I'm down for smoking and drinking and deep thinking

Deep conversations gets me in like invitations

Imitations everywhere like a Dayton without a stamp

But my shit's so tight when it comes out the speakers it gives you ear cramps

Perhaps you've met me, perhaps you've never had the pleasure

It never rains in sunny Southern California homeboy

Never ever cross the wrong homeboy's path and expect to get the last laugh

Nuh-huh, not here

You talk shit about me, but you refuse to look at yourself in the mirror

Peek a boo, disappear, don't nobody want you here

Suprised? I'm revived

Resurrected from this overdose of thoughts

Making my ears ring like gunshots

Fuck love it's all about the feria

That's what makes this world go round

You try not to believe that 

But that's the only feedback, I get from living life my way

Not a surfer, but I used to ride the crime waves

Used to live life sideways, wicked slick and sly ways

Driving thirty down the highways

And I still can't wait for Fridays



Hey homeboy

What's up

Haven't you heard the news?

What's that?

Lil' Rob got a brand new sound ese, called the Sureno blues baby

And this is how it gets down on the brownside of town

Southern Califas style homeboy, check it out

Simon



Now when I slip I dip and hit my switch three pumps to the front

And hop the '63 down the calle

Drop it to the floor and watch it spark the fuck up

Ponle



Drop the top, watch the cops

Time to go, keep it slow

Cuz everybody knows it's not hard to spot a pelon

Cruising an old Chevy convertible

It's incredible, serious, serio, all in your stereo

Keep it original, imagine the video

Goddamn that'd be bomb

Everybody begging me to make my song three hours long

Bubble up like a bong, it shouldn't belong

While the rest of you vatos keep talking shit about each other

Going back and forth like ping pong, now that's wrong

Say you're gonna do it, then do it

Say you're gonna pull it, then pull it

Got a point to prove ese, then prove it

What you waiting for homeboy, you ain't shit and I fucking knew it



Walk down to the old liquor store

To grab me a bottle of that old funky wine

I'm gonna drink it all by myself

Ain't nobody's business but mine

Whew



Catch me drinking funky wine down by the riverside

South, watch your fucking mouth or you'll be floating up the river

Pescados having you for dinner

Claiming that you're badder cuz you're bigger

Homeboy how the fuck you figure?

I'm chopped down trees and brought bigger enemies to their knees

So please, please, please

Get gone with the breeze or gone with the wind, whichever one comes in

You remind me of the Wizard of Oz and that vato made of tin

No heart, don't start something you can't finish

Cuz when it comes down to it I'm gonna mean business

And I'm in it to win it and you best believe I'll kill it

And I'll witness your quickness to your own fucking finish ese

Ponle



Haha, Sureno blues

That's right, simon ese

That's how we put it down homeboy

Get down homey, get down

Show em what Sureno blues is all about ese, que no

Ponle

That's right

Simon

That's my Sureno blues

Get down ese, get down

Get down homey

Yeah, that's right

Whew



That's my Sureno blues

That's my Sureno blues

That's my Sureno blues

That's my Sureno blues

That's my Sureno blues

That's my Sureno blues

That's my Sureno blues

That's my Sureno blues



That's right, oh yeah

This is my, Sureno blues