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The Block ~by Omar Vargas

All around the world they say but really it started in LA

blue rags, baggy pants them

fresh white pro clubs and LA caps

off to the fast lane at the age of thirteen surrounded by palm trees

the smell of weed and smoke from the cars that are post-ed by the utility poles

that marks the spot

like a pirates flag on a ship

this be like the Goonies but the mentality of the show Sons of Anarchy, ain't that some shit

helicopters hovering above us

vecina looking through the ventana the cute lady throwing out the basura the whistle of pericos all around her these vultures will manipulate ya

Pollo holding his taaka like a new born baby Memo making jokes

Nate’s mumbling sounds crazy

Token on the corner, hittin' them toke sirens louder than our speakers

these foos want no love, they would rather fucking leave her ink in our veins but this all just a phase

the walls speaks for us

so don’t fuck around cause we don't play tied up Vans thrown over the power line chillin’ until it gets night time

Tonantzin is who we pray

Cocijo walking beside us in our lane make no mistake, it's a cultural thang and that's how you know

you're at The Block.



Copyright 2021. Omar Vargas. All rights reserved.

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