Lyrics Trip Across from Mexico - Willie D

Trip Across from Mexico

I had a friend
Well anyway that’s what I thought he was
When it began
Our friendship was strong as steroids
I took him in
'Cause he had no place to go
Fed him, treated him like a king
Even bought him clothes
We had been cool since grade school
Then he played me for a fool
The ungrateful punk
Proved to me, kindness wasn’t worth a molecule
He was the low down on the clown
He used to hang around
Eat up all the grub, never washed the tub
Willie Dee got bugged
One day I left work came home
Early with a high fever
Opened the door, guess what I saw?
Him making love to a beaver
It was kind of funny so I laughed
But soon became uptight
When I got a little closer and discovered
That that beaver belonged to my wife
I beat the boy to a coma
Time for the nine to be released
I shot the bitch several times
Picked up the phone and called the police
They sent me to jail, the next con in my cell
Asked me why’d I go
I just stared at him and said
«Trip across from Mexico»
(Go back, you dirty black)
(Go back, you dirty black)
Politicians
They ain’t to be trusted
They legalize drugs
And then they get busted
They don’t want to hear me speak 'cause my mind ain’t weak
'Cause I’m code red alerted
But I won’t divert;
if the truth kills perverts
Shit, I’ll dig the dirt
I’m not a Democrat or Republican
Yeah, just an American
It don’t matter which party’s in the house
They’ll still fuck up thangs
Every hypocrite nominee
Promises to lower taxes
Ask them about it when they’re president
And they start laughing
They want to create jobs
For underprivileged folk
They create cells to lock 'em down
When they survive by selling dope
Trip across from Mexico
(People open your eyes and see. Two hundred years later and the black man is
still not free.
The failure to appoint blacks to high government positions is
just another form of slavery.
I for one will never believe in equality until
we’re no longer on the outside looking in.)
They, I’m talking about the other race
Kidnapped us from our place
They didn’t want us to have what it took
So those crooks hid the damn textbooks
I wonder can I get y’all to drop the pipe
And get high on life
The dopeman could give a damn if you live or die
It’s time to get right
(Come on, tell 'em)
Trip across from Mexico
Three homeboys in Houston
Once hit up a liquor store
Two got away, one got shot
In the back, went through the glass door
He died at the scene at the hands of a clerk
The was hurt
The police got a good description
Of a prime suspect
They knew his name, they knew his game
They knew from where he came
They went straight to his house, arrested him
Began to tamper with his brain
They threatened to incarcerate him for years
Unless he snitched
He brought the story, broke his vow
Surrendered his accomplice
The punk who plead bargain was sent to the pen
Due for ten
The friend he turned in had people in the courts
He now resides in Oregon
The boy got the jacket, became a faggot
'Cause nobody likes a snitch
They took his drawers, gave him panties
Now he walks with a switch
He went to the warden, crying about the deal
Back in '83
Six years locked down, booty pound
Yet still no amnesty
The Warden just smiled and said
«Remember that brother you betrayed from the liquor store?
«Well that was my nephew, ho»
Trip across from Mexico
(Go back, you dirty black)
(Go back, you dirty black)
Trip across from Mexico as defined by Willie Dee.
Any backstabbing move by any
slimy low down motherfucker you thought was cool