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    Clika One / Lyrics

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    "Mexican Mobsters" Lyrics

    Clika One

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    "At that time, Vegas was a place where
    Millions of suckers flew in every year on thier own nickel
    And left behind about a billion dollars
    But at night
    You couldn't see the desert that surrounds Las Vegas
    But it's in the desert where lot of the town's problems are solved" --] Robert De Niro

    [Verse 1: Bad Boy]
    Mobbin' down the street with a blue rag
    And a sack and I look to the side like a pimp in the game (Popo, what's your name)
    Bad Boy from the C-L, I-K, with the A on the D-L
    So where's the P-O's
    Duckin' down on the motherfuckin' side cause they're lookin' for my primos
    What the fuck they want to D-O
    With the Lex and them hoes
    And a pocket full of C-notes
    And we mobbin' in some regals
    But we can't hit the strip cause the strippers like pat down
    Get the guzzle, put the gat down
    We're the fools that we talkin', so we got to put the smack down
    But the levas always back down
    Mad dog and fixin', let 'em know, but I got to hit that douja killer weed
    Jumped up in my birthday suit, addin' honies in my killer bee
    Better be
    Cause you never see three loc'ed up, hold up
    There they go, put the dot to thier dome, chrome .45
    Cocked backed, ready, tell me when, aim steady, loco
    Let it go, loco, let 'em know, that I spray with the
    All day, every day, til the day that I never should've die, should've known
    That we gang bang, take it like a man, but treat him like a bitch
    Cause he's from the other side
    Bang, bang
    When I kill 'em off, fill 'em all, full of bullet holes
    Faggot pussy gotta go, turn around
    Put your loc's on, keep on actin' hard in the yard, trucha
    Cut ya two more to let you know and there's plenty more to go
    One, two, three motherfuckers graves, laid down by the loco Ese Brown
    Hypnotized by the pound, that scattered 'round, beatin' every clown
    Copycattin' on my muh'fuckin' sound
    Hold 'em up
    Take the crown, let me be the king, let me do my thing
    Let the bullets reign, motherfucker slain
    Take the life of an enemy, shit, instead of me, let me see
    If the murder's screamin' meaning anything, seven-oh
    With a two, 'bout to strap
    And a sack, and a gat, matter of fact, look at that, motherfucker
    Got shot through the back, smackdown, nothin' cold in the Cadillac
    Cause I had a strap on my motherfuckin' side

    Chorus: Brown
    My clip is fully loaded, got my cuete right beside me
    I'm born to die, so let these motherfuckers find me
    I show no love when I'm unloadin' out the chamber
    BUCK {​*gunshot*}​
    That's what you get for tryin' to put my life in danger

    Repeat Chorus

    [Verse 2: Brown]
    If I ride on crypts
    Click, pull out your vusca, let see who's packin' the big nuts
    Look at that
    Hit 'em up, with the big gat, now the homie don't know how to act
    Vamos chingamos, any vatos tryin' to act bad, matamos
    Any bitches tryin' to get down cunamos, C-Side, Clika controlondos
    Where the motherfuckin' weed at
    Pisto, shaved heads, in a motherfuckin' parkin' lot
    Down to scrap a lot
    Bad Boy, pull the gat, hit 'em up, with the .45 calibur shot
    I'm gettin' down with the gang bang, bang
    Teardrops and caskets, quick to pull a drive-by
    Street life ain't no game
    Homicide, we ride, I'm hangin' out low rides
    Ese Brown from the C-L, I-K to the A, kickin' back with a motherfuckin' primo
    With them on the D-low
    Fuck around with the Scarface, hit 'em in the neck like Casino
    Put them on a G-O
    Fill 'em all with bullet holes
    Let the motherfuckers bleed, hit 'em up
    With a bottle of the kerosene
    Spark the match, turned around and heard 'em screamin
    Never meant to fuckin' with a demon, no lie
    Twelve guage
    To the brain from a drive-by, livin' my life
    In the fast line, cocaine
    Insane to the brain, with a fake name
    What you claim
    Throw your motherfuckin' gang sign
    Hit 'em up from the side lines, never mind mine
    Never try mine, ese (Be careful, puto)
    I'll blow your motherfuckin' brains, man

    Repeat Chorus

    [Verse 3: Romero]
    I'm crawlin' up out of the shadow, you ready to battle, gon' make your head rattle
    New Mexico Lobo, we doppin' the vocals
    For all of your cholas and all of you cholos
    I'm rollin' mine deep in mi carro
    A '72 Monte Carlo
    We dip us a limon sin palo
    Tripped out in the mente muy malo
    My clip's loaded up with hollows
    Hey Lobo, get down to the point
    I take real big tocasos
    So big, I swallow the joint {​*sniff*}​
    I twist off the cap on my pito, a vato that's listo, para des madre
    A lobo that's puttin' in hales
    I'm burnin' a hole through your carne
    Wherever we are, never it fails
    Smokin' the dough, we're mackin' the hoes
    We'll throw in the dawgs, and droppin' the bombs
    Puttin' it down, whenever we drop
    Shit doesn't stop, forever we last
    Whenever we blast, we spraying em down
    We layin' em down, no playing around
    My cuete goes pop, til everyone drops
    You're fuckin' with Mexican mobsters
    Got grip just like a red lobster
    The brown neighborhood night stalker
    Got ghost when I heard the chopper
    I left no eyewitness, took care of business, in it to win it
    Won't stop til I'm finished, start right from the beginnin'
    Until the ninth innin, I'm makin' my feria, loco
    This song was submitted on November 23rd, 2016.
    Lyrics licensed by LyricFind.

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