| And he faces the death penalty
|
| His attorneys say they can’t comment on the defense before the trial
|
| Which is perhaps a year away
|
| But then they with undoubtable ask the jury to consider the boy behind the man
|
| Retarded, reclusive, and victimized
|
| Before they make their final decision for life, or for death
|
| Give him the death penalty
|
| And call me when they’re ready cuz I will be there
|
| I’m a fallen angel, from the skies I’ve fallen
|
| All the sins that I’ve commited so that I could be balling
|
| Making feria so that my status be known
|
| All the broads in the ghetto want to take me home
|
| I’m a fallen angel, from the skies I’ve fallen
|
| I came out the joint and the drogas were calling
|
| Making feria so I could buy more guns
|
| Lord please forgive me for the damage I’ve done
|
| In a black Monte Carlo from Bristal to the Canyon
|
| Tu sabes, I got this lowride dragging
|
| All through the calles, the barrio’s getting deeper
|
| Conejo rolls tough, automatic street sweeper
|
| Sound system, the motherfucker bumps
|
| Ese hit switches on hydraulic pumps
|
| You better duck, everyone spits metal
|
| Ese fire back, you get hit primero
|
| Bald head and ganga tacas all across my body
|
| Little homey, big homey get shot at the party
|
| They never had a chance, they were dead on arrival
|
| My jefa always tells me that I’m living suicidal
|
| Fuck that, I gotta get my issue
|
| Rock bottom to the top, fuck a snitch and the cops
|
| Low and slow, it gets critical
|
| Cuz vatos that wanna rob me wanna die, let’s go
|
| Twenty inch rims on this grey GMC
|
| Got a bad ass bitch trying to get at me
|
| Cuz I told her I would fuck her at the homeboy’s volo
|
| In an evil six three, homey hit that corner
|
| Keep an eye out, make sure it ain’t funny
|
| Youngster on the Schwin said these vatos were coming
|
| So I grab the signal forty, my Smith and Wessum
|
| Some high powered shit for the street these days
|
| Sabor a mi is what she came for
|
| Cuz mija wanted pedo with this fucking jugador
|
| I did my jale on a stormy night
|
| On a Thursday night when I flew in from Texas
|
| I shot to the pad in a poor white glass house
|
| Got a page from some broads saying «Conejo, what’s up?»
|
| I taxed the frame till I made her cum
|
| Now every single weekend wants to fuck after the club
|
| There ain’t no grave that holds my body down
|
| So as long as I live I’ll keep coming back like Jason
|
| Chasing, the motherfucking dragon
|
| Slaming, '64s and broads
|
| Everybody got his own way, I got my own
|
| Bitch ass vatos break in the panic zone
|
| I thought that I told ya that I’m a soldier
|
| Eternilty I’m locked, you get beat with a lock
|
| And it’s a fierce fucking battle that you await
|
| And you can’t penetrate the fucking gates
|
| Elimination, ese beyond the street
|
| Beyond the mystique of my fatal tecnique
|
| And as I walk through the valley of the shadow of death
|
| I will fear no evil, put a bullet through his chest
|
| Understand me, I’m an angel that’s fallen
|
| Dope dealing killers is what we’re all becoming |