| Hey vato, that shit was pretty dope, A!
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| But uh, kick another rola for the homeboys, A!
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| Kid Frost: *tsk* Alright look man. |
| I’m gonna kick the first verse
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| But for the rest of this shit man you’re gonna have to wait for hour three loco
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| Mi Vida Loca!
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| Listen, listen
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| Mi vida loca, my crazy life
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| And as I describe how crazy my life is
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| Or should I say my life before
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| I opened the doors
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| To the world of show biz
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| I was a troubled kid
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| I never gave a second thought to the things I did
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| Quick to get up off on them fools who run up
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| Down for any situation that would come up
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| Zero tolerance which means I put up with nada
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| I’m rolling on the boulevard with the raza
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| If you were cool, I was cool, cool
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| Trip, I gotta act the fool
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| School you quicker than your school teacher
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| No split decision I straight cold beat ya
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| With bare hands I grab you around your throat and choke ya
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| Don’t mess with my crazy life, mi vida loca
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| My crazy life
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| At the age of twelve I started packing a knife
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| Back then, gangbanging was all but fun
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| At the age of fourteen I started packing a gun
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| It was a .32 Berretta
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| And there was no way in hell that I would ever let a
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| Dumb punk sissy start talking smack
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| Or work with a smirk and peel this cap
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| Quicker than your ass could peel an orange
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| Give me a reason any reason little boy it’s on
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| It’s like that I’m not afraid to provoke ya
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| My crazy life, mi vida loca
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| (Listen) Mi vida loca (Listen, listen, listen)
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| Chicano groove, latin thang
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| Make you move, make you sing, la vida
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| So let’s keep it cool, don’t you know
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| Ghetto band, chicano soul, la vida
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| Listen
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| Listen
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| Listen
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| Listen |