| Disc 1 | ||||||
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| 1. |
| 4:22 | 
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[Verse 1]
I flex my brasos hard core down for the clicka' Who's that eminating funk through the speaka' Bass gets to thumpin' ruckas get to pumpin' Who's that rockin' got the party start jumpin' Blastin' through hah no need for the booyaa Right hammer with the one knuckle eye-shot through ya Step to the crowd I feel the strain' Throw chingasos in the mosh pit feel the pain So don't get in my way baby Because the huero loco came in here to play baby My shit will pump up this jam hot damn it's the baddest Tres Delinquentes step into the madness [Chorus] [Verse 2] Que ondas muchacho I bienes te miro si me tries bronca me enloco deatiro me paro te tumbo no es tu rumbo y con el lingo talvez te confundo Oh shit it's the attack of the five foot ten The blaxican once again with the cocked hair pin As I emerge from the depths of the realm my son I got the black gat fat track coke and rum Otra vez ya lo vez and the crew somos tres One blaxican on the squad you don't test Hittin' hard like an Aztec swift like a Zulu That's what it's like with a palm shot through you My mannerism mild still the punks get piled My number one assassin flips the mad funk styles Me I play the back role but I'm delinquente This is how I freak it when I'm speaking to the gente [Chorus] [Verse 3] Whatcha trucha calmate escucha Somos delinquentes tu no quieres lucha But we freak it this way seguisendo rey O.G. freaks the beat the mariachis play Fade it in with snare from ASR-10 Producer mas mejor it's O.G. Style again Freak it bump it bass out the caro O.G. he's got more BOOM BOOM than charo Third of tres brings cuts to your face bro Hold down the needle with a penny or a peso See all our style used to create With one turntable and a broken 808 [Chorus] |
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| 2. |
| 3:49 |
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1st verse:
in this little session of the promised land where i lounge wit my homeys and i'm freakin' my friend i gots the 6 shoota' down by my side sittin' in the ride pop it in drive i'm rolling through the east side lower slower down for teh dip now hold up check teh sound flip that bitch there's a party goin' on swingin' all night long they come from mile around to see me freak their ________ but if a sucka' wanna trip struttin' up beat i got a gang of hounds to make 'em pop teeth i now this crazy-ass fool, bringin' old sasson i got the brass for your ass, homeboy thought you knew that... Chorus: I got homeys on the south side I know some vatos on the east side some my homeys wanna g-ride we're brining up teh lower eastside (repeat) 2nd Verse: Los Delinquentes, trippin' up the place i hang hey, it's the guera loco wit the way i swang see i be rollin through this _____ and my right hand man is Keemo, un delinquente con el gloc en mi hand es mi vida loca, i'm waistin my potential funky wit the lower eastside fundamentals lower rides, place between the 5 and teh 91, north of Velandra I was wit my su-man, my former kung-fu man my name, Mr. Ives,( who the motha'fuck are you man?) well, i'ma roll this grica to let me fingers twitch 'cause the lower eastside's up in this bithc adn... chorus I got homeys on teh south side I know some vatos on teh east side west side homeys wanna g-ride we're bringin' up the lower eastside 3rd Verse: Well let me think now what do i wanna play i got some homeys a hop skip a jump away where i can always go and catch me a slug fest(what?) tengo familia all the way up in teh midwest well let me come back around the grounds where i lounge the 40-ounce booze and lounge wit my hounds that's where teh homeys will be kickin' it (hey yo that's the N-double guera-5, isn't?)right shh, escucha, here comes teh man but i know these streets like the back of my hand so while the swiney guy be lookin' around i be flippin' a frown, as i pump my shi because, the cuffs won't click the charges won't stick i wonder when these people gonna get the fuck up off my dick there's nowhere you could ever take a drag boy because i break putos of drive-bys just a twist of teh cap from the 40 in my lap wanna scrap we scrap wanna blast i'm strapped tell me... chorus(reapeat 4x's) (music fades 'till end) |
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| 3. |
| 3:47 | 
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| 4. |
| 4:01 |
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This be for the hard-core O.G. real funk fans
The ones that pumpin' up the party Jump and shake your hands And let your joint blaze smoke up and get a little higher If the cherry goes out then relight the fire Pump it up and do this swing for mine baby Ives in the party ya'll time to get crazy Swing it left swing it right swing it back and to the front ha No takin' or the fakin' cause we givin' what you want ha Pure bread born and raised the underground system My recipes so ill you'll think I'm crazy if I list em So I choose to freak it from the dawn till the light To let you listen' hard to what it be like What it be like tell me what it be like What it really be like what it be like What it be like tell me what it be like Do you know what it be like cause I know what it be like What it be like tell me what it be like What it really be like what it be like What it be like tell me what it be like Do you know what it be like cause I know what it be like I'm steppin' up back up straight up so delinquente You won't be saying shit after I sock you in the frente So what's it gonna be sucka what it be like? As I descend from the trend every muthafuckin' night And so I gotta keep the rhymes kinda funky you know I'm still rollin' in the jacked up Chevy '64 You need to ease back sucka you need to pipe down Delinquent type of hound is what you're gettin' from the realm When I'm steppin' through the fog my dogs are kinda fatal I'll swat you like a fly that's on my kitchen table If another day ends still a new dawn breaks And once again I'm droppin' shit upon this 2 inch tape What it be like tell me what it be like What it really be like what it be like What it be like tell me what it be like Do you know what it be like cause I know what it be like What it be like tell me what it be like What it really be like what it be like What it be like tell me what it be like Do you know what it be like cause I know what it be like See this be like discussion of the facts Over hip-hop chords The Lower EastSide allow me kick the funk no fraud See it's the third time for the Iives my news flash No matter what I'm still gonna be the poor white trash Diggin up and out the ghetto Hard raised and rockin' From backspinnin' from freakin' the beat and pop-lockin' From early days I'm steppin' to battle like a vulture It's all just a part of the hip-hop culture What it be like tell me what it be like What it really be like what it be like What it be like tell me what it be like Do you know what it be like cause I know what it be like What it be like tell me what it be like What it really be like what it be like What it be like tell me what it be like Do you know what it be like cause I know what it be like |
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| 5. |
| 3:38 |
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| 6. |
| 3:03 |
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| 7. |
| 3:34 |
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| 8. |
| 3:30 |
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[Verse 1]
I've often wondered how long it's gonna take me In this world until the good Lord shake me And to the man I put up with mad sorrow But I learned soon the sun still shines tomorrow Sometimes bad thoughts they brought me down Growin up hard livin' poor side of town Cause where I was I wondered who will ever need me? But now I know that much love flew freely My momma my poppa both took care No matter what I did I knew they would be there Ball in the school yard puppy love crushes Mischief in the nightime with intimate touches Playin' with the females Christmas was cool Didn't have much but had enough fool So here's three cheers beers up and take a chug Cause this one's for all the past times I dug [Chorus] Even though most of all my life was bad I reminisce on all the good times I had Even though most of all my life was bad I reminisce on all the good times I had Even though most of all my life was bad I reminisce on all the good times I had So if you think all of your life was bad Reminisce on all the good times you had [Verse 2] Well it was once upon a time in the seventies a baby boy bounces Placed on this earth wayin' seven and some ounces But that wasn't all of the bouncin' It was hard for mom to try to keep the proper housin' Straight from Gardena before my sista Linda Migrated to the East Side projects Maravilla There I had my stroll on Rigin' Elementary Moms a quarter century pop left us on empty But that was nothin' new though packin up our shit so We could make the move Cudahay was the zip code Moms working fingers to the bone just to make ends meat I was a latch key delinquent daily runnin' the street And every time I look back I think of just anotha challenge Holidays and birthdays grim still I managed To key a smile making life fun And how can I forget about the seasons in the sun? So here's three cheers beer up and take a chug Cause this one's for all the past times I dug [Chorus] |
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| 9. |
| 3:17 |
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| 10. |
| 3:57 |
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| 11. |
| 4:08 |
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Once again it's me one of the three delinquents
Seems let loose from the noose now it's time to make G's Oooh, Aaah, I hear a fat beat ballin' Lordy lordy let me do some roll callin' Kemo, O.G., Victor, Gigi, Pesci look hard and you'll see me Trixx, big Ronnie, Sen and Sal If you can feel me open up let me slam now Hard than a muthafucka hush sho nuff Lower EastSide of the West Coast take a puff funky But twice burned and I won't be forgetin The ones who tried to break me fake me I'm sweatin' Represent me mine in the place I dwell Big D in the air it's on ring the bell Receive fuel for my mental I'm low gas me up Big dog now but wicked even when I was a pup I came to represent where I'm from If you want some get some bad enough take some I came to break you off and get some If you want some get some bad enough take some I came to break you off and get some If you want some get some bad enough take some I came to break you off and get some If you want some get some bad enough take some Step back give me room cause I'm takin' over Rollin' punks over like a bulldozer Cause I came to represent where I'm from It's the Lower EastSide of the West Coast son So hot diggity damn I'm gettin' figgity scram I loose stability bam there ain't no fadin' the man Who might that be that might be me Yo soy el hombre Cause I walk these streets like the righteous man But I take no shit when I'm freakin' the flam The incredible edible blend I got Latin juice Some want to be like me but lack a few scoops Fools cause I bring the flavor Ives got my back O.G.'s on the fader Damn I can't quit when I start this shit But it's time well spent I came to represent I came to represent where I'm from If you want some get some bad enough take some I came to break you off and get some If you want some get some bad enough take some I came to let you know with no gun If you want some get some bad enough take some I came to represent where I'm from From the back to the frente straight delinquente Not the kingpin ask em all fool I thought I told ya I'm just a little bolder than your average soldier Staring at you psycho hey what's a huero loco? Twisted out mental mad whacked in the coco Never givin' up I got wisdom persistence Two clips loaded in a glock for resistance A flock of delinquentes steppin' through the silence Mellow type of fellow still poised for the violence O.G.'s on the left Sal's on the right Blaxican warrior fuckin' up your blind side Like the Hurra I'm coming O...F...F... And I'm a rock a muthafucka till there ain't none left I came to represent where I'm from If you want some get some bad enough take some I came to break you off and get some If you want some get some bad enough take some I came to let you know with no gun If you want some get some bad enough take some I bring the real rock when there's none If you want some get some bad enough take some |
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| 12. |
| 3:49 |
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| 13. |
| 4:52 |
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What up, what up. Yeah, yeah. East coast, west coast, flava in the mothafuckin house.
(Hurricane G) Hurricane G and the m*thaf*ckin Delinquent Habits And we ain't havin it (word) So what, ni***? You wanna get buck, bring the rock Cause we don't give a m*thaf*ck What the f*ck? I said what the f*ck? What the f*ck? What the m*thaf*ck? Yeah, yeah Hurricane G comin through with the Tres Delinques For mi gente This track with Fuentes (???) Blowin the spot makin sh*t caliente Freakin them seats like Tito Puentes beatin drums Flippin, flowin in different tongues Leavin all you mothaf*ckas sprung without givin up a chocho My lyrics is enough to make you loco, maric*n My sh*t is phat like chicharron F*ckin them seats up like Rome N****s shakin more a** than strippers For all my b*tches and n****s I'm sellin records like thugs selling drugs Gettin mad love Cause I bring it real Sh*t is tight if, and I bang green for my skits (???) (Chorus) M*thaf*cka what? I don't give a f*ck You can bring the rock we can get buck What, m*thaf*cka, what? I don't give a f*ck You can bring the rock we can get buck What I don't give a f*ck You can bring the rock we can get buck What, what m*thaf*cka? I don't give a f*ck You can bring the rock we can get buck (Delinquent Habits) Aiight turn down the bass start to kickin up the treble Put the music in my earphones so I can check my levels Tu no sabes que es la mia venta my nachos clica (??) Es los Tres Delinquentes sin dog y la Boricua-da I don't be braggin, that drama's for your mom But this collaboration right here is da bomb And when house comes the party starts to sway, G Brownstyles pumpin it, bumpin PMP days Muy chicaso Bring a cord on and when I snort it C*ke ought to clean your crock leave your punk a** retarded The one to the two to the three delinquentes Sing la Hurricane G to yo' frentes High as a kite Es la capitan p*nga loca With a fifth of Bacardi and a brain full of m*ta Representin all the clica from the southside And any f*ckin body who got brown pride Take us back to the avenue mi mocho pa' mi gente Con la Hurricane G y los vatos Delinquentes De Cubano marijuano que te deja pa' ampiado Been down since '83, Divi es con mi hermano I know you didn't think I would stop makin rolas I gots to entertain all the vatos and the cholas So take it to the neighborhood and spread it on the calle Que es perro negro, no le vale madre (Chorus) M*thaf*cka what? I don't give a f*ck You can bring the rock we can get buck What, m*thaf*cka? Bring the rock I don't give a f*ck we can get buck What, m*thaf*cka? Bring the rock I don't give a f*ck we can get buck What, m*thaf*cka? Bring the rock I don't give a f*ck we can get buck (Delinquent Habits) The Latin season that's the reason homeboy For all the flava that's on the table The Blaxican once again suggesting quick and fabled I'm struggling mics from mi Lunes to Domingo Te chingo Te digo gringos' got my back the lingo brindo No mas o menos, simply stacks affect tracks So set the move back Porque ritmo pega duro like a kick to your sack Y si me miras en los ojos recojo puro respeto Y las palabras de mi boca empezaron enlocesos Asi lo es homeboys, I'm puttin dantas con mi clicas Hurricane sin dogs, Delinquents blowin out your speakers Otra ves, ya lo ves, somos tres Bring the rock, that's how it is. Cause we don't give a f*ck (Chorus) M*thaf*cka what? I don't give a f*ck You can bring the rock we can get buck What, m*thaf*cka? Bring the rock I don't give a f*ck we can get buck What, m*thaf*cka? Bring the rock I don't give a f*ck we can get buck What, m*thaf*cka? Bring the rock I don't give a f*ck we can get buck B*TCH! |
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| 14. |
| 3:30 |
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