You tattoo our “sugar skulls,” but call us wet backs.
You eat our food, then tell us to get out of “your country”
You wear our style of dress and try and say you represent gangs that our people started for protection, then label us thugs and criminals
You admire our female’s bodies, but only before she’s pregnant, because somehow we’re the only people whose body changes after we’ve given birth.
You tell us our language is beautiful, but you have the audacity to tell us to only speak your’s.
When we try and speak your language, we have an accent that’s too thick SO YOU SPEAK LOUDER TO US AS IF THAT’S GOING TO HELP
If we’re too dark, we’re ugly, if we’re too light “oh, you’re Mexican? You’re so light!” Like, somehow being light is a good thing, just so long as we’re not “brown”
And again, you love our women, but we’re whores when we get pregnant
You put the vegetables on your table; along with your wine and meat that we picked and cut, but we’re lazy and stealing your health care and government assistant
You love our architecture, but you say we overrun your apartment complexes and play our music too loud
You buy our drugs with your own will; you cultivate your drug farms from the seeds we gave you, but we’re all a bunch of drug lord pieces of shit