Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song El Chapo, artist - Mr. Criminal. Album song Redemption, Pt. 1, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 14.06.2018
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Crime Family Entertainment, Roselane
Song language: English
El Chapo |
On the rise like el Chapo |
These foos can’t see me like el Chapo |
From nothing to something like el Chapo |
They want me dead or alive like el Chapo |
I throw the West Side I’m like al rato |
Been wanted since before I hit my teenage |
Sharpening my skills ese look at what the streets made |
A criminal at a young age because I couldn’t behave |
A menace to society, is what my actions relay |
Used to be stuck in the hood, homies free base |
Now I got movie money, hundreds in the briefcase |
Used to be in stolen Honda civics, in the courts |
When I faced trial, the only time I prayed to the lord |
Coupl-couple homies shot in the face next to me |
Used to have street envy, way before I had jewelry |
Before I had these albums out, before I had these movies |
Used to hide in my closet in my dresser tec’s and uzi’s |
Excuse me, is your name Roberto Garcia? |
That was way before the L.A. fair jumped by maravilla |
Way before my first cletcha, way before my first wila |
Way before my first homie lost his vida |
On the rise like el Chapo |
These foos can’t see me like el Chapo |
From nothing to something like el Chapo |
They want me dead or alive like el Chapo |
I throw the West Side I’m like al rato |
For some reason, they wanna stop my cash flow |
Been on my humble game, not trying to be no asshole |
I pass those that grab those, like crabs in a bucket |
I remember posted on the block, I would tuck it |
And the cops used to hit my pad, nothing to discuss |
I remember sergeant Johnson telling Lopez, go ahead cuff em |
I remember them raiding, hiding stress in the oven |
Stashing dope in the ceilings, even in my moms stuff |
And I had nowhere to run, living all in the streets |
The P.D. |
had my name on a A.P.B., an all points bulletin |
Cause I grew up as a hooligan, underestimated |
All this banging shit would throw me in |
Living life on the run wasn’t no fun, no food no soul |
With some dope and a gun |
Had to stay off the phone cause the landline was tapped |
No matter where I was, was strapped |
On the rise like el Chapo |
These foos can’t see me like el Chapo |
From nothing to something like el Chapo |
They want me dead or alive like el Chapo |
I throw the West Side I’m like al rato |