Lyrics to "Veteranz Day" - Thief Sicario

[salrojas]

Lyrics to "Veteranz Day"

Veteran's Day -Thief Sicario

[verse:1]
Its Veterans Day, pinta viejos walkin' with canes/
that shit shot in ya veins, still ain't stoppin' ya pain/
slugs lodge in ya brain, you leave me with no choice/
the strength of a gesture, a thought with no voice/
a moment of silence, for those livin' in hell/
as I sit in this cell, remember my intentions were well/
thats from the heart, and on the strength of my clan/
I'm a spit for the damned, split up these grams/
abscond parole, and fuckin' live on the lam/
spray clips till it jams, my gente leave me with no choice/
I'm possessed by the spirit, of those with no voice/ them vatos on lock, and those that bang in the streets/
this here the type of shit, that make ya wanna change ya beliefs/
the shit that make L7's, start clutchin' a strap/
the shit that make snitches, wish they wasn't a rat/
Honor Among Thieves, had to come back with that crazy flow/
for them vatos thats been cursin', 'cause they mad at the radio/
still under supervision, from parole officers/
so much I wanna say, I'm at a loss of words/
fuck it some shit's, best left unsed/
vatos reflect on my shit, eyes bloodshot red/
'cause they holdin' back tears, or they enraged or high/
let these phrases fly, up to the ageless sky/

[chorus]
(this for them vatos thats still in the streets, stealin' to eat/ for those concealin' they heat, or those for real in the beast/
I know some vatos catchin' chills, when I speak/
while others say they just feelin', the beat/...)

[verse:2]
Vatos noddin' out to my shit, like heroin adicts/
Got alot of weight on my shoulders, like vatos carrying caskets/
To they homie's funeral, laid in his tomb to rest/
His heart broken mother cryin', bangin' you in the chest/
Blamin' you for his death, don't know what to do but to hold her/
Every day in Corona, the minds climate gets colder/
This for them people oppressed, but too proud to admit it/
That demand they respects, by any means out to get it/
Vatos takin' a plea, to get they homies off the hook/
After two valas upstate, still no money on the books/
But still this carnalismo, signin' scripts fraternally/
'Till red stamps stating paroled's, how it returns to me/
This for them vatos that'll probably, never see the light/
And if you don't know, where ya gonna sleep tonight/
Ese I'm with you, my gente leaves me with no choice/
I'm possessed by the spirit, of those with no voice/
The solar deprived, that exit realms of segregation/
Dracula pale, with depleted pigmintation/
Through publications, explorin' ruins of the Maya/
Each dawn I die, consumed in the fire/
And what's left of my life, is split at the seems/
As the Amerikan dream, slowly evolves/
Into a nightmare scene, and still they leave me with no choice/
The strength of a gesture, a thought with no voice/