When ya see the crowd go to the side, you know it’s El O
Swag wit no fear, takin all the shots, like Carmello
Building a tradition, not resting upon one
Words of the future, the real game, it ain’t a fake one
Tired of petty people talkin Los ain’t true
When the sweat off my nuts got more guts than you
Boy, it’s true that El gonna walk up in the game
Cuz Los tired of the false prophets, he tired of the lames
Tired of fake niggas acting like they real and true
Tired of fake broads that try to play you
And I’m tired of lame jokes, muafuck ya inspector gadget
Cuz Maury put his fist to ya face, just like a fuckin magnet
But El is a maturity point, it’s above the rest
Keep the petty insults to the punks, cuz he rollin wit the best
El walked away from the point where Los felt like shit
Believe it or not, God is the solution, it ain’t in the fist