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.