Ricardo Castro

I was originally born in San Jose, California but have since moved to Kansas City Mo. I am a long way for my homeland but I was very happy to come across this web site keep up the good work.

By Ricardo Castro


Envision it if you will
A world where no Raza blood would spill
Where our people could walk tall
And join hands in unity one and all.
Our children could once again walk the street
Without the fear of wearing the wrong colors and getting beat.
Parents would make sure their children stayed in school
Kids would learn that being in a gang makes you a fool
Unity would provide us with strength and power
And to the Nation of Aztlan people would cower.
Spic, beaner wetback would be words of the past
As the respect La Raza is due would come at last.
Along our borders armed guards would no longer stand
Because this will once again be the people of Aztlanís land.
The thought of all this gives my heart a thrill
I hope you take the time to envision it if you will.


Your voices are coming to me loud and clear
Images of you in battle begin to appear
My heart begins to pound in my chest
As your message wakes me from my rest
We have stood idle way to long
The time has come for our people to be strong
They pass laws denying our children social welfare
Then they expect us to act as though we think it is fair
Now our native tongue they have threatened to take away
From this challenge however, we will not stray
Villa, Zapata and all our ancestors from the past
I promise you the day of reckoning has come at last
Though the situation seems bleak, for us do not shed a tear
Because the power of La Raza, in them will instill fear.


You put up fences to keep us away
Then you seek us out to work for less pay
We work twelve hour days picking fruit on your land
Yet when our children are sick you offer no helping hand
Because we donít speak English we are treated like fools
Then you pass laws to keep our kids out of schools
Your children and mine arenít allowed to play with one another
But it is O.K. to have your children nannied by my mother
Your jobs you think we came here to steal
But all we are looking for is our next meal
Your food, your education and your jobs we donít wish to take away
We simply live in houses and do the jobs your pride made you throw away
In the name of democracy you pass laws made to enrage
But who will pick your lettuce for less than minimum wage
You would rather turn away than stare us in the face
And by passing these laws you hope to put us in our place
But your love of money will keep us here in the states
Remember us the next time you have salads on your plates
For it wasnít the American farmer who picked that lettuce for you
It was that wetback Spic Mexican who doesnít even get a thank you.


Mexican American is the category they put me in
But the more I hear this the more my patience wears thin
I am one hundred percent Mexican, a direct descendant of the Aztecs
To this explanation people seem to pay no respect
Warriors were my people and they feared no one
They fought to the death or until the war was won
My people are a prideful people who always fend for themselves
But it seems these history tales never made it to the shelves
"You donít look Mexican" people tell me all the time
They believe the color of my skin is the only sign
Yes, my descendants had beautiful bronzed brown skin
But Spanish and French cultures were all mixed in
The color of my skin doesnít show what flows through my veins
My heart pound as I believe it is time for us to take the reins
The reins of those government officials who want to keep us off our land
Thatís right our land, it was ours long before we saw the white manís hand
One hand was friendly and extended us a greeting of peace
While the other held a gun and took our land piece by piece
Though this may have happened many years in the past
We have not forgotten and the time for redemption has come at last
Because I preach "BROWN PRIDE" the government calls me a militant
But militant or not the message will be sent
Our people will rise from the ground as we have done before
When it is all said and done we will not be the ones lying on the floor
They will try to prevent it but they cannot stop the flood
for through my veins flows the Warriors Blood.


Mom now I know your rage
As society has me trapped in a cage
The only way out is through a sheet
Used to cover up my identity nice and neat.
The call me amigo, esse or homeboy
But to them these names are just a ploy
To keep me categorized with the rest
But in my heart I know MI RAZA is the best.
Mom I thought you were paranoid way back when
You used to say the "gringos are at it again!"
But now I realize how much they hate our race
Perhaps it is jealousy over our style and grace
Whatever their reasons, it matters not
Because their actions I have not forgot
As my knowledge grows with age
Momma, now I feel your rage.


What have I ever done to you to deserve such hate?
With each of your actions you seal my fate
A chance is what I am looking for
It is my fault because my family is poor?
Yet you cannot see it in your heart
To give me a chance at a new start.

Education and belonging is what I seek
Yet you mock me because your language I do not speak
I did not choose my color or my race
Nor did I have a say in the time or the place
But educating myself is something I choose to do
And now you wish to take that away too.

I could see if I have harmed you in some way
But I am just a child who lives from day to day
Somehow, some way I will survive this living hell
When I do youíll be the first I tell
That the kid you couldnít stand to see
Is now the proud owner of a college degree!

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