my lyrical flow is that i know and crazed to create.
out of hate people threw at me on a clean plate.
BUT i still skate, so i can return the hate to there face.
for this hispanic race, i will disinagrate a disgrace.
305 till i die, or till i touch the sky. which ever comes first.
since birth i was hated against. but im still on this earth.
i still disperse. and will till i take my last breath.
with out a vest, i will stay on the rise till my fuckin death.
will continue to write. in a black game that is so tight.
i will still fight so i can earn my lyrical right.
and just might. go pro in this twisted illusion.
full of prostatution, sickness and confusion.
all abusion i will take to show where i stand.
cus i demand to be loved. without a glock in my hand.

a critical state of mind is the grind i chose to lead.
i will bleed for my 305, untill then lets smoke some weed.
and plead on our knees, prey for a better day.
to turn the page so we can continue our way.
continue our stay as latins in the american dream.
sure we hustle and lean. but we will stay clean.
some shit seldom seen, but we dont care.
we stay on the game with these rows in our hair.
continue to fight for wut we think is right.
taken a stand to demand to stay alive at night.
no more gang bangers. we lost to much already.
when do u think it will stop? when its to heavy?
lets get ahead. lets take it out while we still can.
lets put down the mac's and tecs'. lets drop the 9s from our hands.