This is a song about "La migra"

Your enemies was the prey and now you pray to god

Je suis la garçon qui cracher flamme, french, i just cannot

But muerte es la vida; death is part of life see; only "god" can judge me

And that's reallife that i was aimed to belove by my family tree

I'm through trial, no more smiles, for a couple years

Got acres of papers, like i played for the la lakers.

Let's kick it on my la-z-boy and throw a fucking crazy show

Even when the skies is grey, and my money was low

Rape a bitch, rampart, im dorner outside the la court yard

She bend it over, make that thing look like a work of art

Scott la rock, mac dre, and jam master jay,

Until i started to lose my way