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Yeah I am the head honcho

and I do wear a poncho

You got a problem with that?

I didn’t think so

cause if you did

We would take a trip to San Francisco

a one way trip for you.

You would dig a hole

and then you would jump in it

Cause no one with any street sense

would ever talk about my dress sense.

Cause now you are in the shit

knee deep in the doo doo

another victim of the urban voodoo

Yes I know that wearing a poncho isn’t

exactly the latest style.

And it can get rather breezy.

Maybe I should wear it wear pants?

Only joking

I always wear the chinos in  shade of Green

They make me look menacing and kind of mean.

I drive around the streets in a bright purple Chevy

My tattoos tattooing

My gun primed and ready.

If anybody crosses me

I put them in the ground

They look to the sky

with a glassy eye stare

with a bullet in the head

they aint going anywhere.

I am the head honcho

looking pretty cool in my knee length

poncho

All the girls wish they could be mine.

But first lets backtrack a bit.

 

My name is Raul and I have lived on the

streets since I was six or seven.

Picking the pockets of the tourists

just trying to stay alive.

Eating food from the garbage can

just trying to survive.

I did what I had to do to get through

the night.

I learnt how to act tough

I learnt how to fight.

Shoplifting stealing stuff from cars.

Rolling drunks as they stumbled out

of the bars.

Anything for a dollar

just get me through the day

Some food in my stomach

and a place to stay.

The streets of LA  isn’t exactly the

yellow brick road.

If my pockets are empty

why am I carrying a heavy load.

I started to hang with a couple of other kids

you could call them bad

But at the same time they were the only

friends to be had.

They introduced me to a gang who lived

life on the edge.

They walked along the ledge

But somehow they never fell.

They must of dipped their toes in the

wishing well.

I was sixteen and I think the well has

run dry.

I am waiting for the sun to fall from the

sky.

The gang members tell me that I have to pass an

initiation test.

I have to show them who is best.

They say that I have to kill a rival gang member

who has been doing what he shouldn’t oughta

He has been messing with a members Daughter.

I am shitting bricks how am I going to do the deed

Maybe he will choke on a Avocado seed

I aint so lucky

I have been given a deadline of two days.

Sixteen years old and I have to commit a murder

They give me a choice of weapons

a gun or a knife.

Either way I am going to take a life.

Okay I am ready the target is in sight

He is walking on what he thinks is the

sunny side of the street.

The knife feels heavy in my hand as I

approach the unfortunate one.

On second thoughts

maybe I should of brought a gun.

But no a knife will have to do

It is to late to back out now.

I cross the street and I struggle with

my emotions.

Should I do it?

Or should I pike out.

Before I know it I have the knife in my hand.

With one thrust the blood starts to spray.

I am saturated his life is fading fast

Jesus I don’t know what to say

I just walk away.

The gang is happy I have passed the initiation

They are happy with the situation.

At sixteen I have taken a persons last breath

I don’t know what to say

I just get on with my day

The killing has elevated me to a new

level.

I am now the 3IC  of the gang.

People stand aside when I cross their path.

They don’t want to feel my knife

They don’t want to feel my wrath.

The second in charge is standing in my way

to the top.

So he will have to go.

His name is Billy Joe Hill.

I think he comes from the South.

He has a lazy eye and a wise ass mouth.

This killing will have to look like an accident.

So the current head honcho doesn’t become

wary.

Me and Billy Joe are on are way to Coney Island.

We go on the ferry.

We walk around all day doing a bit of this and a

bit of that.

Just filing in the day.

Billy Joe mouth is working  overtime.

He sure can talk a whole lot of nothing.

I still haven’t thought of a way to put him

on his way to hell.

Maybe push him under a Bus and say he fell.

But then Billy Joe comes up with the idea

for his own demise.

Billy Joe might be the second in charge

but he isn’t very wise.

He suggests we go into the Subway.

To smoke a little weed.

They will give me a chance to do the

dirty deed.

You see Trains run on electricity.

And the one thing you don’t touch is the

third rail.

Time to fry Billy Joe Hill.

I cant afford to fail.

Billy Joe is still jawing and he fails to see

the danger.

I give him a little nudge

He loses his balance and touches the rail

Sparks start to fly.

Billy Joe sure does fry.

He didn’t even say goodbye.

I explain to the Cops that Billy Joe was a bit

unsteady on his feet after smoking a lot of weed.

He didn’t believe that the third rail was dangerous.

He wanted to be Mr Courageous.

The Cops brought my story

and Billy Joes death was ruled death by

misadventure.

The head honcho(in a poncho)

The poncho that will soon be mine.

He said that it was a pity about Billy Joe.

But it was business as usual

He suspect a thing.

The head honcho comes from Mexico.

He is called El Cockaroacho.

Cause he is dirty mean and mighty unclean.

He has ruled the gang with an iron fist.

He has a Meth uses skin and teeth.

There is nothing good about the head honcho.

All except his poncho.

This time I don’t mess about.

I stick my knife between his ribs.

Things get quite messy.

He should have worn a bib.

He bleeds all over the poncho

that ex head honcho.

After a bit of a wash the poncho is as good

as new.

Except for the hole that my knife made.

But beggars cant be choosers.

that is only for losers.

So now I am the head honcho

I am the king of the castle.

The king of the streets of the East side.

If you see me coming

You better run and hide.