Rich in the tradition of the Varrios..

With old neighborhoods and antiguo Raza that cliqued up and set up their Varrios long ago.

Varrios which are now on the list amongst the very olden ones of all thee "1902" Condado.

Varrios even as old as those from other Sides of the County;
Like those from

All of these same Olden SOUTHxBAY Varrios..


~> Survive going strong..
even onto this present age

How and when did it all start out down here?
It is hard to say.
It's all been around for a long ass time.
Part of it you can tell by the plenty numeros of oldie vatos still kicking it in these parts of the Old Land!..

The attitude i dare say,
has been here
from as far back as there’s been raza staking claim to a piece of ground in the Southwest
The Southwest called ~> AZTLAN..
and that goes back, way back..
way way back in time.

From old beginner times, these local grounds have been a cross-road between the two Republics of European-White-America and European-Mestizo-Mexico.
Both cultures threw some in there and spiced up the soul, helping out to lift up the heads of the local vatos.
High on pride and commitment to family, they carried themselves and went about their days laboring in the fields, working in the packing plants, working in construction projects, or on the docks.
After work they would always find some time to socialize, drinking some brews, puffing on frajos, on the strings and cords with their liras serenading the ladies with their romantics, or singing their sadness to the night.
A sad but happy hard life they lived, their days and nights were always filled with laughter, but filled with tears as well.
Their sad souls, their rough faces, their strong defiant and valiant attitude towards hardship, their commitment to one another, it all was watched and learned from, it all was deposited on the hearts and minds of the next generation who witnessed them, and the next generation tried to duplicate it all, in their own version, during their own growing up times.

Dirt streets criss-crossed the neighborhoods, a clear sign to outsiders that they'd entered the poor side of the town.
That’s what they were originally, isolated little villages on the outskirts of the society-in-charge of business and politics.
Poor little enclaves called Barrios and Colonias, soon to be marked for destruction by city planners and the wheels of time.
Nevertheless, the Low-Down Raza from the Poor-Sides grew ever stronger in the Califas style that sparked up the humble rebel-in-them.
They got into car clubs, picked up motorcycles, dressed down and hit the dancehalls.
They blazed up and hanged out with the crowd, kicking it at the corner, at the park or at the pool hall.
The times kept bringing on fast changes to the Barrios.
The music sounds, the fashion trends, the city landscape, the population mix., everything and all; the tic tocs of creeping time moving them fast-forward into the future, not giving much chance for the younger generations to fully grasp things from the old side of the fence, and so they adopted what they could, and disguised the new..
Raza Loca de Califas they became, first Pachucos, then Cholos, and now Brown Pride Gangsters!

American Gangsterism captivated and seduced the Vatos Locos, one generation after another.
Just like the rest from all over the Brown Nation of Aztlan, they carried inside their veins the fiery blood of a warrior past, and so they created their modern tribes, their modern neighborhood clans.
Their attitude remained the same ole one, that of a Mexican trapped inside America.
Mexico forgot about them, and America denied them.
Not from here, nor from there, they found themselves as from neither one;
And so they went about in creating their own little countries in the form of Varrios..
They gave their allegiance, and devoted themselves to one another, backing each other against any and all enemies.
As time went by, little by little, they built up their own sub-culture.
They transformed their dress code to conform to the flamboyant look;
They re-invented the English and Spanish language and applied a slang version to their everyday talk.
El Vato Loco drapped himself with the gangster image of the American Roaring 20s and 30s, but a-la-Mexican version.
Rebels of society who strolled around, and rolled around, defining their space, marking their territory, establishing their borders.
Going places, they’d run into hassles.
Rumbles and throwing down with others from around near-by became the thing.
Soon, street warfare between Brown Raza replaced fighting for racial space, and soon enough, the Varrios became fully focused on each other.
Their rivalries rose to a level of hatred and violence for which there is no end in sight.
The toe to toe, the fists and kicks gave way to knives and chains;
Knives and chains in turn gave rise to guns and rifles;
And now automatics and high-power calibers reign supreme.
What was once about your street, your friends, your space in this great little big world, became ever more encroached upon by new streets and new faces, faces with new ideas and aspirations for life.

The old nostalgia is becoming but a faded memory, seldom remembered in the concrete jungle rat-race.
Thee rat-race virus, unstoppable in its invasion and corruption of a vato's soul!

The SOxBAY first crazy vatos are lost to recorded history.
Few records exist other than a few newspaper articles pertaining to “criminal” activity.
The rest comes from a few old heads that can tell you the tales from the hood in small talk personal conversation.
But it is said that amongst the first to organize into what later gave rise to the Varrios of today, are said to be those like THEE IMPERIALS from Imperial Beach, the VULTURES from San Ysidro, and the ANCHOR BOYS from National City.
A later generation like the COACHMEN from Sidro, and the YATOS from Otay are credited to be from the actual generation that cliqued up and formed the Varrios as we know them today..


are listed as the oldest of the SOxBAY.

These SOxBAY Varrios like others from other parts of the County and State, were able to maintain themselves old-school and traditional;
Each one was able to keep their locals united, and each new Varrio clique gave their first allegiance to the Varrio, the clique came second!

The SOxBAY varrios were able to keep it together like that for several decades, all the way up to the late 1970s.
But by then, several factors had begun to take a toll on their little nations.
The freeway system was built over Barrio lands, destroying whole sections of the neighborhoods, creating physical barriers and divisions between their communities.
Palm City, Chula Vista, National City, Nestor and San Ysidro were the hardest hit by the criss-crossing freeway system.
New housing developments and commercial business complexes arose here and there and everywhere.
The population growth brought tons of new faces and skin shades, and different attitudes to the sacred grounds.
The later trolley line further added a boundary for some.

Whereas before all the locals from each Varrio started out in the same Elementary school and Junior High;
Now, there were many different schools in each town.
The nostalgia of the Old Times had passed and the new sounds, the new garb, the new rides, new trends, new this, new that and new everything propagated by the media and Hollywood in full partnership with business entrepreneurs, had propelled the younger minds into a wide diversity of styles.
The 1980s killed the old and propelled the Varrios into a new era, an era with few rules and deviant attitudes.
Too many vatos going in all different directions, and too many vatos coming in from other places making the SOxBAY their stomping grounds.
Vatos from other SD areas, vatos from LOS, vatos from Tijuas and Mexico, vatos from all over have come down over the years and added their differences to the mix.

The Varrios remain still as one, but the Barrios themselves are far from that.

Law enforcement took its toll on the Varrios as well.
An abundance of resources were put into play..
Once an area was targeted for “clean up” ..
so many Homies began to get locked up for long ass years at a time;
Thus leaving less and less solid vatos on the streets to demonstrate some ole school clecha and recruit.

The effects of so many changes became something of a free-for-all for vatos to go about it any which way that suited them best.
Rockers, Party Crews, Taggers, Stoners, Rock-A-Billy’s and others pulled people away from the Varrios;
And the once huge numbers a Varrio pulled, dropped down big time.
The many new crews that sprung up bordering on the old streets..
in time also gave rise to their own new Treces.


After all is said and done, suffice to say that even with all that heavy chet that has come down on these old grounds..

~> the Old Varrios continue to come out strong..
Defying it all:

Including time itself!

Can’t no one claim that the SOxBAY / SOxSIDE can’t hang with the best..
Because they are from The Best!

From an OLD GUARD of BARRIOS that transcends the decades!






To you, the gangster homeboy out there in the field of play
You know, there’s another side to consider when you’re out there..

There is a price to pay for all the fame.. for that earned rep.

It’s a hard price to pay.

A price which one day you’ll come face to face..

That’s if you don’t slow down; If you don’t pause and think about the life you lead.

You say that you’re a true loco and it don’t matter what price there is to pay..

You say that you don’t care if a bullet finds you..

That it doesn’t matter if you have to do some hard time..

You know, and pay the price for your crimes.

But you see, you got it all wrong.

You’re thinking about it as if you’re the only one who’ll pay that price..

And that’s alright with you ‘cause you’re down like that.

But it isn’t like that, crazy homeboy..

It isn’t you who will pay the ultimate price for your crimes.

Who cares about you anyways?

If you don’t care, because that’s how hard you became..

And you’re so crazy that you just don’t give a fuck!

Who then pays for your self-centered grandiose ego?

See, you think that by you feeling guilty..

That by you feeling sorrow and remorse..

Or even feel repentant after you commit a crime..

Or that by you getting shot or getting locked up, that you’re paying the price..

In your mind you may feel like you’re making amends; made atonement for your crimes.

Pero chale crazy homeboy; You haven’t even begun to pay the price!

The price for all the blood and tears that you caused still remains outstanding..

Because your crimes live on!

That’s right.

The price wasn’t paid when you got locked up and went away to do solid time..

The price wasn’t liquidated just because you repented and moved on..

Nah crazy homeboy, your gangster times live on!

They live on in so many faces that came in contact with your fucked up life!

Your gangster ass lives on in the lives of all those fools you fucked up..

Those vatos who you shot and stabbed..

You live in the memories of their families..

You live in the memories of their pops and moms..

And you haunt their sleep with nightmares from time to time..

You haunt their thoughts when they think what if?

What if it happens to their next child.. to their other young ones?..

What if they too meet up with a monster like you in their lives?

Will you the monster take away another loved one?

So your bad ass gangster life lives on in those folks lives.

Your crazy vato loco times live on.. take that to the bank!

Affecting so many lives, even after you gave it all up.

You already done the damage to so many souls around you.. in your life’s path.

Your gangster ass lives on with all those homeboys who you backed up so many times..

And now, they too have to pay the price.

Those homeboys you cared so much for and died for you..

They too are still paying that price for you..

Simon, they’re down there in hell getting bum rushed by the demons of their earthly past.

And the ones behind bars, they’re paying with their time..

Their time away from their families, away from their loved ones.

And the ones still out there in the streets, they’re paying the price for you too..

They’re paying with their drug addictions..

They’re paying with their ignorance and lack of opportunity at a meaningful life.

That’s right!

All your road dogs too are paying the price for your gangster life..

Because you weren’t really looking out for them..

Because chale, you were too busy thinking about yourself..

And you were too busy doing wrong..

Thinking you had it all right..

Thinking yourself such a wise guy..

You dumbass!

The world around you, what you cared for most in life..

You destroyed with your gang life!

Your mother’s tears did not break you..

Your babydoll’s love couldn’t change you..

Your little one couldn’t stop you..

And so, they all now pay the price for you, crazy gangster you.

Society pays the price too..

But you don’t care about that, right?

If you don’t care about your own blood, why would anything else matter, right?

Not even GOD caused you to stop and think..

For nothing really mattered to you, because in your stupor..

In your hurt, you had the thoughts..

That you were dealt the wrong cards in this game of life..

So who gives a fuck?

Fuck the enemies.. fuck society.. fuck the man.. fuck everyone and everything..

Those were the thoughts that crossed your mind so many times.

But you never really stopped to think how those you said you cared for pay a price for you..

Yeah that’s right..

The Price?

Those enemies with sheer terror in their eyes that stared at you with when you drove that shank..

Those homeboys in a wheelchair..

Those homeboys locked up..

Those homeboys without a job..

Those homeboys all addicted to drugs..

Those homeboys who o.d..

Those homeboys all shot up..

Those homeboys who never got to see another sunrise..

Those homeboys you failed to steer right..

Those tears your mom cries for you..

Those thoughts your pop's has of having failed you..

Those sad times your ole lady passed alone without you there..

Those lost moments with your child..

Those many young girls bodies you defiled..

Those many dreams you shattered..

Yeah, they’re all a part of the price to be paid..

For your crazy ass gangster times!