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The Border

from The Year of the Puma by CHROMA

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lyrics

[Chorus: Polito]
Yeah, I don't use mics for the fame you motherfuckers
That's my journal on the track
And my eyes just watch the numbers
Give a shout out to my brother, cousin, mister on the corner
Split the bread up with my momma's children
They still at the border
(HA HA HA HA HA)
They still at the border
Split the bread up with my momma's children
They still at the border
(HA HA HA HA HA)
They still at the border
Split the bread up with my momma's children
They still at the border
(HA HA HA HA HA)

[Verse 1: Bleu Santana]
They still at the border
Turn a dollar to a nickel then it's back into a quarter
Cus my valuables diminish and the money's getting shorter
Old money looking so new now
Getaway vacation, blow it on a luau
Living off inheritance
They can have my severance
Rising off the tenement
No time to see the sunshine
Took away my patio, hustle in my bloodline
Still six, seven different figures left
Please don't waste my time
I wear it down quick, too quick to even notice
Why you tryna be a man in this gentleman's attire
Too insecure to be the outlier

[Chorus: Polito]
Yeah, I don't use mics for the fame you motherfuckers
That's my journal on the track
And my eyes just watch the numbers
Give a shout out to my brother, cousin, mister on the corner
Split the bread up with my momma's children
They still at the border
(HA HA HA HA HA)
They still at the border
Split the bread up with my momma's children
They still at the border
(HA HA HA HA HA)
They still at the border
Split the bread up with my momma's children
They still at the border
(HA HA HA HA HA)

[Verse 2: Kalid Abdul]
Who are all these people who take me out of my element
Who are all these people who take me out of my element
Who are all these people who take me out of my element
Who are all these people who are who are tweaking with the other men
Yo era ese tipo de ayer
Fucking with that other man (?)
Don’t wanna pick my brother up
Don’t wanna be my fathers son
Don’t wanna be the out of luck
Don’t wanna lose my otter box
What a plot it gone be
Till this day you gone see
What my crew can be
Sipping on my tea
Fucked over by these
(HUH)

credits

from The Year of the Puma, released December 27, 2019

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CHROMA Dallas, Texas

CHROMA is a Chicano hip-hop collective. We exist to inspire, empower, and innovate the variety and depth of color within the Human experience, particularly as expressed through the Chicano identity.

CHROMA’s sound is the culmination of various genres including Hip-Hop, Alt-Rap, House & Indie Pop fusing their Chicano roots, Spanish and putting their Mexican culture at the forefront of their art.
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