I break my back for nothing to support a family in a house with not enough beds//
Your pockets do not own me, this earth of Aztlan does//
This earth that our ancestors danced for rain and sun for//
The reason you call us wetbacks//
Spics...
*******...
Pero esta vida no te pertenece//
We define life in every step we take in the mud//
Our souls, always accepted by the gods//
We never had to sell the worth of our spirits to the below//
We hit crossroads everyday, but the difference is...
We don't cry for help, we dig deep, deep in that black pit you label us in//
We crawl out with motivation larger than our bloodline//
We span throughout the entire universe//
And still, you label us stealers of the country, you call us advantage takers//
Did you forget who you took this land from?//
You call the racists founding fathers//
When you really are the sons of the indigenous//
Check yourself before it's all over//
We're not asking you to leave, just realize who are the true thieves//