Emilio Rojas - Spic [tekst, tłumaczenie i interpretacja piosenki]

[Hook]
But you ain’t nothing but a Spic, you ain’t nothing but a Spic
You ain’t nothing but a Spic, but you ain’t nothing but a Spic

[Verse One: Emilio Rojas]
There’s ten of us in that crib, we used to live with my mom and Tia Yolanda
Abuela and Tio Jose, oldest sister and father, even my two cousins
We made a lot of the nada, one family a bedroom in that two bedroom apartment
And you can say that we was struggling there but we ain’t ever take no government checks
They worked a few jobs, now I ain’t judging, just saying stop the consumption
Our mother would never ever accept the help of another
We cramming in the back of that Nissan like a clown car
Drumming on the steering wheel like defining your all star
My mama skipping meals to feed us, she getting flaca
And every Sunday morning, we cleaning and bumping salsa
My people party till ocho en la mañana, a drink and two steps of Corona
And la bachata and still they looking at us like we nada
They don’t want us as neighbors, they’d rather us clean they casa

[Hook]

[Verse Two: Emilio Rojas]
Every morning in class, the pledge of allegiance
And teachers treat Latinos like all of us is illegals
My pops a cliché cause he left my mama with three kids
His next wife with two, dipped and ain’t been seen since
Abuelo called from Caracas where he was drunk
He crying and say he miss us but he ain’t met with us once
Why they look at our women like unintelligent sluts?
They raise, they cater to us, show affection and love
Proud of my sister, there’s not a lot that can fuck with her
A Venezuelan girl with a scholarship to Columbia
Jealous hoes said it’s to bring minority numbers up
Even though she ten times smarter than all them other smuts
Yeah, I’m loving Latinas, I swear those Summer nuts
They fall in love with you fast after you touch ‘em once
‘Cause we a culture full of passion, yeah but still they looking at us like we savage

[Hook]

[Verse Three: Emilio Rojas]
Yeah, in the Heights, they recruiting for the Marines
We ain’t good enough for papers but we good enough to bleed
Make us turn on each other and some will join the police
But the hustlers do more for my street, they keep the peace, right?
El Malecon for the chicharron, a patacon
Maybe the mangu in the morning
They smashing platano, we wifing beautiful women, never the pajarros
Older heads sit on the ave, slamming the dominoes
El sabado, the baddest chicks all out, they looking thick
They got they asses and they tits all out
And then that racist motherfucker screaming Spic all loud
He be the one that’s in the club, dancing to Pitbull now
That’s why I get all proud when they be reaching
If you wanna call me a Spic, then I’mma be it
Venezuelano, Dominicano and Puerto Rican
I’m proud of my people, I love y’all my Latinos, but you ain’t nothing but a Spic