Pablo Diablo

Your honor,

I would like to call my first witness to the stand

All the way from

East L.A., your honor,

Pablo Diablo

Hey, [Incomprehensible]

Guantana Mira, hey, my lovin' is for everyone, man

Do you know it reminds me of the summertime in the

Bungalows of

Spain, all night in the park

Eh, you would hear your music, it would be on the eighth floor

But the Pongos they reach up there, man

We used to keep the whole neighborhood up

Guantanamara

Thank you,

Pablo, for nothing,

Jesus Christ

What a moron, no further questions, your honor