PERMISO (feat. ONEY1)

Yeah, ah
Low profile, from the streets to the streets (Oh)
Oney1, yeah
Fame Crue, Fame Clicka (Son of a bitch; hey)
Yeah, ah (Prr)

Let them tell it however they want, I don’t even care (Ha!)
Death to the rapists, bullets for the cops (Eh!)
I’m burning the weed and they’re killing my vibe (Eh!)
I promised my mom I wouldn’t step foot in a precinct (Ha!)

Dude, we work hard here, our papers are all good
A kiss for the haters, cash for the family, ha! (What?)
I’m the real deal, little iron, lots of fists
Respect to those who respect, don’t mess with me (Eh!, yeah)

You keep snorting that stuff, your life’s going down the drain (Ha-ha!)
While I’m making money because I’m spitting poetry (Ha-ha!)
You guys are rats, don’t mess with La Mafilia (Ah, yeah)
I don’t hang with traitors, I don’t do that junk (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

I never look down on anyone, it’s the street code
I walked straight, it’s just that mom gave me some slaps (Eh, eh!)
My lyrics are spicy like the name "Fuerte Apache"
This is my hood, and we don’t sell crack or base

I’ll hang it up to the ceiling and won’t budge for nothing (What, what?)
If one day I hit it big at home, there won’t be a thing missing (No, no!)
God bless those who lack a blanket (Yes, yes!, eh)
Soon freedom for my buddy who’s in for a screw-up (Eh)

Walking through the hood, I slip into the hallway
I’m checking my pockets, I don’t have a single paper (Ha-ha!)
I’m pretty slick, trying to make a fortune
If you bought a new phone, they’ll throw you to the ground (Eh, eh!)

Permission for me to come through, clear the way
I’m gonna win, succeed, step by step (What, what?)
Sometimes I feel down, I need a hug
But everything changes when I’m rolling a joint

Permission for me to come through, clear the way (Eh, eh, eh!)
I’m gonna win, succeed, step by step (Ha!)
Sometimes I feel down, I need a hug (Yo', yo', yo')
But everything changes when I’m rolling a joint (Eh, eh!), ha-ha!

(Check it out!) Rolling a joint, buddy (Ha-ha!; check it out, man, yeah)
Sounds real nice (Check it out! Check it out, man, yeah)

Yeah, we brought the shit you needed with that '90s flavor
We’re the same as always, we don’t buy into the sales
Your track sounds real nice, but it doesn’t represent me
It’s like when they hand you a drink and it’s mint Fernet, and it sounds (Coo-coo, coo-coo-coo-coo!)

Buddy, seriously, we’re turning up, check it out, zero bullshit
We’re from the era when they’d share tracks via Bluetooth
So you can shake that ass like El Retutu said
We’re back again to sound on your cell phone

Your neighbor was listening and started bobbing her head
If you demand respect, you gotta give it back
A shout-out to the crew, trigger [?]
The purest shit, ha, brought from San Francisco

Watch out, if they don’t know you, they might leave you on read
The kids are wild, just in case they bring the gun
But when it’s not for food, a record drops on the corner.