Simon! Y para un frijol eating cabron

Cyclone pelon chingon

And all that

the local cholo went solo

but I came back

With Mexican Militia on my hat

A baseball bat

it's on cause Chicanos gotsta scrap

Ready to beat down ready to shoot

ready to burn down ready to loot

And won't stop til my point's understood

And I ain't gonna do it in my own neighborhood.

I'm gonna do it where they'll be affected,

Until some civilized muthafuckas are elected

Frank V's loking up,

For years Chicanos have been broken up,

It's the different gangs different sections

But wait til we get together,

Muthafucken Mexicans!

Hey Frank, kick back on the lyrics,

You a lil' too hype on them, just relax, relax

Fuck that shit man chale!

Gimme my cuete, so I can do a jale,

But not on someone Brown from another town,

But on them muthafackas that try to keep the raza down.

I gotta pay em back,

I got my stolen ride and I grabbed my stolen gat,

Jacked a 12 pack and now I'm ready to attack.

I heard he called me a wet back,

Now he's gonna get cracked.

He said that my race was no good,

So now I'm on my way to a rich neighborhood.

With my nine milli,

about to act silly,

and get raw like the outlaw Billy

the kid,

you know what did?

I went to square it off with a gringo who hates me,

Took my last sip took my cuete off safety,

Seen him with his wife coming out of the casa,

and I said boo-ya! This is for the raza!

And drove off at a highway speed.

I'll be damned if the pinche jura catch me.

Cause they just love, to pull over a Latin

And hope he starts runni