Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Creepin', artist - Brownside. Album song The Original Chicano Players, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 25.04.2011
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: PR
Song language: English
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 |
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 |
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 |
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 |