It’s very seLdom that I address these peopLe. I try to avoid going down an angry spiraL whenever possibLe — especiaLLy since it’s gotten me in troubLe more times than I can count. I mean, why waste my energy addressing those who are ignorant of the bLood, sweat and tears that go into the business everyday or because some peopLe have a raging case of Negative Ned and Debbie Downer Syndrome at the core of their psyche. But as we’re approaching our 1 year anniversary, there are a lot of things we’ve been bottLing up inside that need some form of reLease.
Confession: sometimes we speak through our food, messages impLanted in the very names or concepts of some of our speciaLs. Sometimes it’s through music videos or random-arse links. There’s a lot said between the lines if you look hard enough.
But there are times when we’ve got to either let it aLL out, very directLy, and purge our minds of aLL the backLash, toxicity and wiLLfuL ignorance so that we can move on — or impLode.
We are survivors and choose to live another day. Because as many haters as there are out there, there are a miLLion more appreciators and a miLLion more reasons to continue.
Again, this message is to the ones tapping that haterade and wanksta-sauce: YOUR ATTITUDE AND THE THINGS THAT YOU DO AND SAY ARE PISSING US OFF… but for those who are genuineLy trying and just haven’t gotten it yet — we ain’t mad atcha.
It’s fine it they don’t get what it is that I’m saying. ♫Haters gonna hate, lovers gonna love and I don’t reaLLy want any the above.♫ But in aLL sincerity, this is written more for our sake than theirs. A confession, if you wiLL, of aLL the confLicts and demons we’ve been brought up against in the pubLic eye or within ourseLves on this strange and beautifuL mind trip.
You think you know who you are untiL aLmost everything said or written about you is just a an empty echo of the most artificiaLLy produced sound bite ever crafted about your story. And you put on a shoe, see if it fits and then reaLize that — no, you’re not a rock superstar livin large with a big house and five cars: we’re just an LA taco truck that happens to be up against a lot of intense scrutiny and taLL taLes toLd by those who hoLd the strings of any large outLet of media.
We’re late, our sneakers are dirty, we work 10-16-hour days and serve up $2 tacos that are made with whatever emotion we happen to be feeLing that day. And they’re friggin DERICIOUS. What more can anybody want from us? We might have a shiny sticker, but our trucks stiLL break down every other week cuz we push them so hard. What more can anybody want from us? We eat parking tickets, argue with cops, have everybody work 5 different jobs at the same time and take risks at going into neighborhoods that no other taco trucks in this county has ever dared to touch. I am asking THOSE peopLe – WHAT MORE CAN ANYBODY WANT FROM US?
And we’ve come to a decision: we don’t ever want and can’t ever be who they want us to be. Because there is no way we can ever fuLfiLL the most superficiaL of their expectations and stiLL retain a shred of humanity. Live loud or die with dignity. BAS. Thass it.
We are who we are, we are what we are.
P.S. And for the appreciators — I have a very speciaL message for youse!! I REALLY DO!!! Just give me a day — this post took a lot out of me and I need to be at 3 different pLaces at once. I love you aLL for tasting the spirit in our food, for getting us — or for standing by us when you didn’t get us and aLL our neurotic tendencies at ALL! (( MASSIVE HUG ))
Alot of a…sharks out there…try’na take a bite of somethin’
Lot of chameleons out there…try’na change up
Anytime somethin’ new comes along…everybody wants a bite
Don’t happen overnight
So you wanna be a rock superstar?
And live large, a big house, 5 cars, you’re in charge
Comin’ up in the world don’t trust nobody
Gotta look over your shoulder constantly
I remember the days when I was a young kid growin’ up
Looking in the mirror dreamin’ about blowin’ up
The rock crowd, makin money, chill with the honey’s
Sign autographs or whatever the people want from me
Shit’s funny how impossible dreams manifest
And the games that be comin’ with it, nevertheless
You got to go for the gusto but you don’t know
About the blood, sweat and tears and losing some of your peers
And losing some of yourself to the years past gone by
Hopefully it don’t manifest for the wrong guy
Egomaniac and the brainiac don’t know how to act
Shit’s deep, 48 tracks
Studio gangster mack signed the deal, thinks he’s gonna make a mil’
But never will ’til he crosses over
Still filling your head with fantasies
Come with me, show the sacrifice it takes to make the cheese
You wanna be a rock superstar in the biz?
And take shit from people who don’t know what it is
I wish it was all fun and games but the price of fame is high
And some can’t pay the way
Still trapped in what you rappin’ about
Tell me what happened when you lost clout
The route you took started collapsing
No fans, no fame, no respect, no change, no women
And everybody shits on your name
[Sen Dog talking]
People see rockstars, you know what I’m sayin?
But you still…try’na…get out more like, like everybody else
It’s a fun job, but it’s still a job
Save your money man, save your money too
Hit singles don’t last very long, you know what I’m sayin?
I mean…you’re lucky in this game too
There’s gon’ be another cat comin’ out
Lookin’ like me, soundin’ like me, next year I know this
They’ll be a flipside, do whatchu you do
Somebody’ll try to spin off like some series
You ever have big dreams of makin’ real cream?
Big shot, heavy hitter on the mainstream
You wanna look trendy in the Bentley
Be a snob and never act friendly
You wanna have big fame, let me explain
What happens to these stars and their big brains
First they get played like all damn day
Long as you sell everything will be O.K.
Then you get dissed by the media and fans
Things never stay the same way they began
I heard that some never give full to the fullest
That’s while fools end up dining on the bullet
Think everything’s fine in the big time
See me in my Lex’ with the chrome raised high
So you wanna roll far and live large?
It ain’t all that goes with bein’ a rockstar
My own son don’t know me
I’m chillin’ in the hotel room lonely
But I thank God I’m with my homies
But sometimes I wish I was back home
But only no radio or video didn’t show me
No love, the phony, gotta hit the road slowly
So the record gets pushed by Sony
I’m in the middle like mony
And the press say that my own people disown me
And the best way back is to keep your head straight
Never inflate the cranium
They’re too worried about them honies at the Paladium
Who just wanna cling on, swing on, and so on
Go on, fall off, the hoes roll on
‘Til the next rock superstar with no shame
Give him a year, he’ll be right out the game
The same as the last one who came before him
Gained fame, started gettin’ ignored, I warned him
Assured him, this ain’t easy take it from Weezy
Sleezy people wanna be so cheesy, they’re fuckin’ evil
So for now, thass about aLL the crap I want to get off our chests.
But for those who are stiLL trying, but just not “gettin it” yet, Papi’s heart goes out to you: