Dear Family 19

3/31/2014
Dear F.A.N.S. 

     Hey, I love you. I wrote you a quick Cold Forty, with a brief mention of the S.O.N.'s change in release date. Got more mail coming your way.

Con Amor,

Los

SING IT IF YOU KNOW THE HOOK

(Another Cold 40)

Call me Billy Grams as I put you in a trance

not a witch doctor but I am what I am

no Ma’am, no pay for da gas, or da ass

it’s all Taco Bell, run for da border fast

whip lash, whips dash, but I slow for the fans

Autographs, plenty laughs, brothers, uncles, aunts

all cash, no tax, Screw chopped, wid da ax

now watch, how he acts, nonfiction, all facts

let me dip into my story, Dope House for da glory

Big Shot Bob Horry, Asian man, “So sorri”,

Neva say “poor me”, all I say is “pour me”

a four please, mornings, approaching the floor G

that rhymes with orgy, but I stay porn-free

even when I’m corny- neva rock the mike poorly,

Losy flow, shocka fool, wreck me? imposterbull

rooster like “Cockadool!”, even make ya momma drool

pop a few of these pills, I’mma bring da medicine

music for ya felon friends, music for da eloquent

hataz got me hellabent, I don’t ride a renta-Vette

nigga in the pen ‘n’ gettin lit, wait a second pimp

let me catch my breath again, new name, guess it, mayne

Super Power Mexicain, but I changed it yestaday

Sand Piper Musicman, Him and All Da Screwston Band

neva will I lose a fan, if he leave he stupid man

watch how I shoot the can, even when it’s far away

Crane Style, Tiger Blow, so my good Karma stay

new date, is Ju-ly, sorry for the June lie

if I gotta lie again, sorry Pain but you die

nigga still blowin minds, kids good, growin fine

Momma gettin old with time, Gina on the sofa cryin

pourin my, fo in sty, -ro as I’m, blowin pine

lost in the ocean tryin hard to reach an open line

Love is what I hope ya find, mesh it with ya own design

bless’em with this flow of mine, play it on a slowa grind

walkin under solar lights, sippin drank and holdin mikes

askin if I’m throwed is, like, askin if a cobra bites

life is still an open book, only hurts when no one looks

first chapter, Coke and Crooks, let the bakin soda cook

product that the hopeless push, in tha city, or da woods

ghettos gettin overtook, sing it if ya know the hook.......

Los