GEO
I got that heart at Bonifacio, beatin like a bongo
Wildin with BARCADA Lolai used to call me "Gago"
Hella Ilocano, Jesus on the walls though
Lookin kaka asi with the minds that always follow
Covered up the picture with my girl french kissin
Went swimming with our fingers made our homeboys sniff em
It was different back then, Sunday Mass ten
In the morning peepin cuties in the church bad sin
My confession was a half assed repent, then a couple Hail Mary's
like a quarterback's desperate attempts, for the win
My pops watchin boxin through the fence
And my uncles playin chess, Benson Hedge's cigarettes
Red handed I was caught, they laughed when I coughed
Later on best believe I'm gettin spanked for the loss
My pops never finished his thoughts he's like ahh...
ahh... yeah
BAMBU
I'm from a place where the system still feudal, and the masses still colonized
Landlords light skinned, stabbin with they colored eyes
Wonder why the goods aint no good so we import
Things we can make our damn selves, and we export
Fleshbone, sister tryna make it home paid
While my privelege let me look at my plate, and complain
Hit a stage to get treated like I'm better than the fan
When the fan is for real, I just get it where I can
And my dad, like to mispronounce words when he mad
So forgive me if I scream "Pakkin* shit, god damn"
It's the blood of a Visaya, but we never said saya
With a spanish for a heart, but the fight'll never tie it
To the South, where the 'Murros find it difficult to swallow
Where treaties and Paris marries the North, they don't follow
From the bottom of a bottle, to the middle of a joint
Brown people, fat noses, use our lips when we point
[CHORUS: BAM/GEO]
We grit our teeth and work through it all day
Like Prometheus Brown sprainin his knee on stage
Push forward through the pain never show it your face
Ay, Let em know we aint afraid from the bottom lookin' up
'in' up, uh-up
I'm from the bottom lookin' up
'in' up, uh-up
GEO
Ay yo Bam (What up?) play that backwards for me man
We told em where we from, now lets tell em where we at
In fact they aint lettin us leave this bar till we throw a couple back
Yeah, and go double on a track
So in fact let it be known, fuck the cops, ukininam
It don't stop till the pig get cooked in his own blood, dinuguan
Number one, with a bullet whenever the scholar is coo with a gun
Who woulda thunk, two in the trunk, pow ready, give em some
BAMBU
Sit in the sun, soon as we done, we give our s and get on the drums
Document struggle to lay where we from, straight outta Maui and straight to my lungs
Choppin it up when a couple of pigs pass the C-Cig
Hit the boys in blue like a scholar time to get up on my G-Shit
But when in need thin and clean bullets to his feet
Havin him jumpin around Bambu, tappin the ground to a beat
See what I mean, Ay yo G, from the fields to the hills
Ilocanos in the sun pickin pineapples in the field, yeah
[CHORUS: GEO/BAM]
We grit our teeth and work through it all day
Like my man Bambu losin his shirt on stage
Push forward through the pain never show it your face
Ay, Let em know we aint afraid from the bottom lookin' up
'in' up, uh-up
We from the bottom lookin' up
'in' up, uh-up
