Run around downtown, cliques throw down in the mix. Clowns and infinite showdowns. Battle grounds all break down, worlds upside down. Making wicked smiles, wicked frowns, we get down.
Couldn't believe your eyes. When you see what the fuck is comin'. Psyclones all you sorry mothafuckas runnin'. The city has turned to renegades. With guns and blades.
I told the Tower of Power we can work together. But I guess they rather see wars and scars better. Street veterans holding enemy Bandera. And then we're caught up in the web of the Guerra.