Lyrics
I had a friend
Well, anyway, that's what I thought he was
When it began
Our friendship was stronger than steroids
I took him in, 'cause he had no place to go
Fed him, treated him like king
Even bought him clothes
We had been cool since grade school
Then he played me for a fool
The ungrateful punk proved to me
Kindness wasn't worth a molecule
He was the low-down only clown
He used to hang around
Eat up all the grub, never wash his tub
Willie D got bugged
One day I left work, came home early with a high fever
Opened the door and guess what I saw?
Him making love to a beaver
It was kinda funny so I laughed
But soon became uptight
When I got a little closer and discovered
That that beaver belonged to my wife (Uh-oh!)
I beat the boy to a coma
Time for the nine to be released
I shot the bitch several times
Picked up the phone and called the police
They sent me to jail, an ex-con in my cell
Asked me why'd I go
I just stared at him and said
"Triple cross from Mexico!"
Go back, you dirty trick
Go back, you dirty trick
Politicians, they ain't to be trusted
They legalize drugs and then they get busted
They don't want to hear me speak 'cause my mind ain't weak
'Cause I'm code red alert, but I won't divert
If the truth kills perverts, shit, I'll dig the dirt
I'm not a Democrat or Republican
Yeah, just an American
It don't matter which party's in the house
They'll still fuck up things
Every hypocrite nominee promises to lower taxes
Ask them about it when they're president
And they start laughing
They won't create jobs, fund the privileged folk
They create cells to lock 'em down when they survive by selling dope
Triple cross from Mexico
People, open your eyes and see
Two hundred years later the black man is still not free
The failure to appoint blacks to high government positions
Is just another form of slavery
I, for one, will never believe in equality
Until we're no longer on the outside looking in
They, I'm talking about the other race
Kidnapped us from our place
They didn't want us to have what it took
So those crooks hid the damn textbooks
I wonder, can I get y'all to drop the pipe
And get high on life?
The dope man can give a damn if you live or die
It's time to get right, come on!
Triple cross from Mexico
Three homeboys in Houston once hit up a liquor store
Two got away, one got shot in the back, went through the glass door
He died at the scene at the hands of a clerk, the sight was hurt
The police got a good description of a prime suspect
They knew his name, they knew his game
They knew from where he came
They went straight to his house, arrested him
Began to tamper with his brain
They threatened to incarcerate him for years, unless he snitched
He bought the story, broke his vow
Surrendered his accomplice
The punk plea bargained, was sent to the pen, two for ten
The friend he turned in had people in the courts
He now resides in Oregon
The boy got the jacket, became a faggot
'Cause nobody likes a snitch
They took his drawers, gave him panties
Now he walks with a switch
He went to the warden, crying about the deal back in '83
Six years locked down, booty pound, yet still no amnesty
The one just smiled and said
"Remember that brother you betrayed from the liquor store?
Well, that was my nephew, ho!"
Triple cross from Mexico
Go back, you dirty trick
Go back, you dirty trick
Triple cross from Mexico as defined by Willie D
Any backstabbing move
By any slimy, low-down motherfucker you thought was cool