Songtext:
Ponle Magnetfolien Bergisch Gladbach I jump in my 1963 Chevrolet Watch it lay, orale On the floor, en el suelo Lifts me off the ground just like a leño, que no Simon, packs much power just like mi cuete Trece cuarenta y siete You're all up in my mix ese, ya vete Before you get sliced and diced with the machete No te mesa, no se que no te importa nota pinche leva Meet me wherever whenever's clever Ponle homey, turn up the system I got the Sureno blues rhythm Ain't nothing quite like it, I like it Something to bump to, get drunk to I'm down for smoking and drinking and deep thinking Deep conversations gets me in like invitations Imitations everywhere like a Dayton without a stamp But my shit's so tight when it comes out the speakers it gives you ear cramps Perhaps you've met me, perhaps you've never had the pleasure It never rains in sunny Southern California homeboy Never ever cross the wrong homeboy's path and expect to get the last laugh Nuh-huh, not here You talk shit about me, but you refuse to look at yourself in the mirror Peek a boo, disappear, don't nobody want you here Suprised? I'm revived Resurrected from this overdose of thoughts Making my ears ring like gunshots Fuck love it's all about the feria That's what makes this world go round You try not to believe that But that's the only feedback, I get from living life my way Not a surfer, but I used to ride the crime waves Used to live life sideways, wicked slick and sly ways Driving thirty down the highways And I still can't wait for Fridays
Hey homeboy What's up Haven't you heard the news? What's that? Lil' Rob got a brand new sound ese, called the Sureno blues baby And this is how it gets down on the brownside of town Southern Califas style homeboy, check it out Simon
Now when I slip I dip and hit my switch three pumps to the front And hop the '63 down the calle Drop it to the floor and watch it spark the fuck up Ponle
Drop the top, watch the cops Time to go, keep it slow Cuz everybody knows it's not hard to spot a pelon Cruising an old Chevy convertible It's incredible, serious, serio, all in your stereo Keep it original, imagine the video Goddamn that'd be bomb Everybody begging me to make my song three hours long Bubble up like a bong, it shouldn't belong While the rest of you vatos keep talking shit about each other Going back and forth like ping pong, now that's wrong Say you're gonna do it, then do it Say you're gonna pull it, then pull it Got a point to prove ese, then prove it What you waiting for homeboy, you ain't shit and I fucking knew it
Walk down to the old liquor store To grab me a bottle of that old funky wine I'm gonna drink it all by myself Ain't nobody's business but mine Whew
Catch me drinking funky wine down by the riverside South, watch your fucking mouth or you'll be floating up the river Pescados having you for dinner Claiming that you're badder cuz you're bigger Homeboy how the fuck you figure? I'm chopped down trees and brought bigger enemies to their knees So please, please, please Get gone with the breeze or gone with the wind, whichever one comes in You remind me of the Wizard of Oz and that vato made of tin No heart, don't start something you can't finish Cuz when it comes down to it I'm gonna mean business And I'm in it to win it and you best believe I'll kill it And I'll witness your quickness to your own fucking finish ese Ponle
Haha, Sureno blues That's right, simon ese That's how we put it down homeboy Get down homey, get down Show em what Sureno blues is all about ese, que no Ponle That's right Simon That's my Sureno blues Get down ese, get down Get down homey Yeah, that's right Whew
That's my Sureno blues That's my Sureno blues That's my Sureno blues That's my Sureno blues That's my Sureno blues That's my Sureno blues That's my Sureno blues That's my Sureno blues
