Creepin’

Lyrics

[Verse 1: Wicked] Kicking it, strap on my side and I'm so high Thinking bout them putos that tried to do the drive-by Creeping in the alley, ese this ain't the valley Cholos are deep in a fucking brown Caddie Drop to the floor, a fucking four door (There's some putos we jumped) Ese, they're coming for more, ni pedo Watch real close while I level His head to the seat, my cuete he hands me Six feet deep is where this culo stays Although in a coma for a couple of days, anyways That's what I see on 2-1 Street, where we meet in the big SC, si South Central is lo que represento The crazy ass Eastside is in your fucking mental Lento, but harder than a motherfucker Catch me on a bad day knocking out a clucker [Hook (x2)] Creepin' through my neighborhood Cuete on my side, always up to no good On the Eastside, where the balas fly Home of true gangsters ese, I don't lie [Verse 2: Wicked] Now all you cholos know we gotta handle our streets Always keeping trucha cuz the black and whites creep All gotta pay dues, think it's time to take a cruise Pensando in my head, fuck them fools They're throwin' rat on the fucking murder rap Now it's time for us to go on back Simon, we're the ones you putos can not stand I'm coming to get you with a cuete in my hand Damn there he goes, stop, I go, I caught his ass quick Nada me duro puro, bluck bluck to his stomach I stuck Two balas at first then one on top for luck Fuck I gotta go, this puto needs no more To make our escape we just drove away slow We gotta handle ours, leaving scars Q-Vo to the homies behind bars [Hook (x2)] Creepin' through my neighborhood Cuete on my side, always up to no good On the Eastside, where the balas fly Home of true gangsters ese, I don't lie [Verse 3: Toker] As I light and hit the sherm stick I sit back and think of doing crazy shit So we roll, and it's late at night Got my little homie Sharp, and Wicked by my side Rolling in the G-ride, headed out the East Side Ahora en la noche some pendejo dies Simon, it's all a gang trip If you're in it and you know it say "you better not slip" Crazy cholos don't give a fuck Simon, fuck the juras, my dick they can suck Straight gang banging till the day I die Señor Juez I'm innocent, I don't lie Big pantalones, creased down, t-shirts Hitting it with the homies always putting in work Sur Central is where the fuck I roam Los Ángeles (East Side) is where I call my home [Hook (x2)] Creepin' through my neighborhood Cuete on my side, always up to no good On the Eastside, where the balas fly Home of true gangsters ese, I don't lie [Verse 4: Wicked] Enemigas try to fade, when we show up they run away I guess they seen us coming with our guns ready to spray You look like a bitch when you run from us I know you know we got guns that bust Plus you know I'll peel your fucking cap Didn't catch you yesterday but I'ma get you off the map So strap, cause they only way you're lasting if you're fucking blasting Never recognize me cause I'm always masking on a mission All the santos missing, then they shoot this fool and then start dissing Display my motherfucking gangster's way Spit on his ass, chinga tu madre guey Just like that, making putos disappear Ya que, at least I'm still here No fear, those huevotes and my Mexican Pride Jump in the lowrider and cruise through my East Side [Hook (x2)] Creepin' through my neighborhood Cuete on my side, always up to no good On the Eastside, where the balas fly Home of true gangsters ese, I don't lie