Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Latino Pt. 2 , by - Joell Ortiz. Release date: 09.06.2015
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Latino Pt. 2 |
| Cry first and laugh last |
| Television was on, we never had dads |
| And the city was flooded with mad crack |
| Cause they experiment on minorities like we lab rats |
| Priorities, it’s fuck authority |
| A man that can stand on his own and show maturity |
| I ain’t ever ask for a loan, I’ve been supportin' me |
| Takin' cash from hoes like a sorority |
| Oh yeah they comin' for your life |
| Con Ed, I’m comin' for your light |
| It’s bonded, I’m livin' out of spite |
| You ain’t bleed then it wasn’t worth the fight |
| I’m givin' y’all bread and water, ah bread and water all they get |
| And it ain’t shakin' no hands, so fuck your politics |
| This isn’t makin' a band, I burn a lot of bridges down |
| Then I played in the ash like fuck a following |
| All we ever wanted was good pussy and credit scores |
| Their own cars is better than all our rentals are |
| I’m sick of y’all, dudes switchin' and gettin' hot |
| Like Bruce Jenner and menopause |
| Ain’t never told us detox the senators |
| I say they sent us to detox the criminals |
| So the minute that we pop his genitals |
| Emilio ain’t gon' ever fall, I told y’all |
| Everybody pressin' charges, they ain’t change where I’m from |
| It’s no game, even Ndamukong Suh |
| Connect try to keep me out the loop |
| It’s canine proof, all my birds in the coop |
| Niggas wanna see me in the cage (but why?) |
| My lawyer gets surprised with the money I save (ching ching!) |
| I’m low like Fetty Wap’s left eye |
| I coulda sworn I saw Left Eye in Best Buy |
| Nike slippers, read the paper on the milk crates |
| Sippin' Arizona, I got stripes like a Zebra Cake |
| Believe me, fast money like a relay |
| Shopped in SoHo when Prince Street had replays |
| >D-day?clashing mandible???< |
| Put you in the earth, what it’s worth you can act natural |
| The pragmatical mathematical rappin' cannibal |
| Who ramp with animals, Bronx nigga that has an attitude |
| You see my avenue is compatible with a battle room |
| I never sold crack, just wrote dope lines to hand to you |
| Package that, I got the Cadillac of flows |
| Cataracs these hoes cause I’m soundin' like platinum gold |
| You never see a ghost, that’s what me and my dad was told |
| So now I’m pickin' up the torch while these labels haggle my soul |
| Y’all can suck the undercuts of my nuts while I take a shit |
| Only spend nights, I don’t gotta know what patience is |
| All you niggas bitches, to exist you gotta take my rent |
| Blow your fuckin' head off clean bro, save the witness |
| Latino, I’m that and I’m proud |
| If you don’t know us, let me tell you about |
| Niggas that slam their dominoes loud, let you see copy |
| cheek choffy |
| Cherry coco, peña drip 'til your teeth sloppy |
| Hustlers become connects when they need papis |
| Nissan, Honda, Chevy on the back block |
| Runnin' routes with the bow bow in the stash box |
| When I speak it’s chop yaow, I’m a New Yorican |
| Calderon on the phone, I’m in Loiza creepin' |
| Y’all hangin' on resorts to just chill |
| I’m in the 'caserios' take a walk down the hill |
| One way in, one way out, where y’all all could get killed |
| Leave them niggas alone, that’s how the officers feel |
| Nigga, my people, beach, 98 gettin' our tan on |
| Slippers walkin' on Orchard, hittin' the sand strong |
| But plan wrong, it will transform |
| Wet you then find a Jet Blue out to San Juan |
| We don’t look for parties, the party’s wherever we go |
| Turn the corner section to the 4th of Julio |
| Too much to fit in one 16 |
| So let me cook like the festival on 1/16 |
| Mean, my career’s been like one sick dream |
| A nightmare, scary how I does this thing |
| You ain’t elite, I’m made of deep |
| God thought he was stuntin' when he created me |
| Rap’s Bobby Fischer, nigga please take a seat |
| I made you in three moves: ink, paper, beat |
| Y’all keep playin', nigga, we play for keeps |
| Stop claimin' to be what my eyes don’t see though |
| Every verse I spit, you get an 'ay dios mio' |
| This time with my amigos, Latinos |