Don Francisco - Bodega Bamz

Y Oshun, caridad del pobre

Yemayá, mi guía espiritual

Virgencita, yo que soy tan pobre

Sólo clamo por la tranquilidad

Yea my skin tan, my fade low

My eyes green for those pesos

Eat chicharrón sin huesos

I’m pit-bull and I’m Tego

With the hoes like Don Francisco

I’m live O when I’m Big Pun

Bowl in a pot, little salson

Mix it all around, and Bodegaz what you got

Spanish Harlem, my play ground

Bullet proof it all, I’m safe now

Idaho potatoes, make it safe and sound

I’m a keep that gold, I’m a take that crown

I’m a still pump yay up-town

Pray to papa dios when I’m on that Greyhound

Fucked up nerves, back with a bird

Oh pass the cig, I’m a need a bust down!

Yo, Champagne my morning drink

Mami chulas in my bed giving head

Go ahead right before I blink

Brain so good a motherfucker can’t think

Straight Henny poured on my brand new mink

Bitch I get money bags, look like Brinks

Holy rosaries confess my sins

Call my girl doll, and Miami like a fin

Real thugged out, all black Tims, black Chevy Impa…

All black rims, no tints, seat back

Oh wait that’s him, that guy

Even Oliver’s people know I

Now they know my name, wanna hear my slang

Born a Latin King, I ain’t talking bout the gang

It’s the G note that us Tan Boys Ring

We ain’t got a problem letting off that thing