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I'm not impressed by all that cling, cling
What sounds, your bling, bling
A little movie is not what makes you hard
And all alone I am a dreamteam
Much for your ching-ching
Before taking out the pen, take it out safely
Cachipa de la mata for premature babies
Don't put anything in it, they will take out the pure
You are too young to jump over my wall
Go away and come back when you are mature
I'm not a boss because meta blam, blam
On the battlefield my medals are already
From eight four to twenty three what I have given you is bam bam
My saliva burns more than your beretta
I'm not a boss because meta blam, blam
OG that roars louder than a Taliban
From eighty four to twenty three what I have given you is bam bam
I carry the pivot on fire on my drumstick
Once upon a time there was a suburban boy
That an urban movement was invented
And now as an old man he comes to guerrilla
For everything that was taken from his hands
I'm no longer looking for crowns and titles
Yes I already have my own cubicle
Why am I going to copy the disciples?
Your burst of hoarseness I kill it with two verses
You sing studio ganta with more throat than testicles
Calderón-style duo and his rinquincalla goes into battle
Let's see who shouts, let's see who is silent
Let's see who at least gets me this far and measures up to me.
Take out your shrapnel and I will take out the mamotreto that does not fail
Canute, you always shoot rough
That's why you don't even qualify to be my substitute, cuto
Wha', wiki-wiki
Since I was a baby I have been a cuckoo, he kills fekas
He kills bars, the one who muddies the parasuco the most
Cod, no matter how much you come in disguise
The pants you wear don't fit
Because wha', wiki-wiki, you borrowed them
And there is no room for a guaraguao beak in the face of the hummingbird, wow!
Once upon a time there was a suburban boy
That an urban movement was invented
And now as an old man he comes to guerrilla
For everything that was taken from his hands
I'm not a boss because meta blam, blam
On the battlefield my medals are already
From eight four to twenty three what I have given you is bam bam
My saliva burns more than your beretta
I'm not a boss because meta blam, blam
OG that roars louder than a Taliban
From eighty four to twenty three what I have given you is bam bam
The pibota, I have fire in my drumstick
hip-hop culture all the time
My pen is bad boy like Biggie
dj rakes the hardest dishes
Let them be heard wiki-wiki-wiki
I'm Tricky Dicky never Micky
There is no ham here, I only hang out with geeks and crazy people
In this background I feel like I'm in a lounge chair
Hand me the coconut water
They call me and I join
The fire bursts out of my pores
From Kidsborough County
I came to rap, not to sing chorus
Poetry is my treasure and my temple
Your comments that I ignore
People who have their flow like me
You don't need to have that much gold
As in Puerto Rico Aldeano and el Vico
From the avico avico
If I reply it would be better to wait
A boy from the suburbs speaking the real thing
Not what people in these times prefer delays
I am talking to you about music
that even though we are no longer here
She always stays alive, she doesn't die
Please never compare her puddles with our seas
A bird with hair on its wings makes more sense, asere
I don't shut up, I never fail
My language, my law, my tongue
I repeated heavy and detailed
Pick up the mare that is in ruins, I arrive on horseback
I rap until I pass out
In the flow I have a callus
Advance and vassal
My rhymes come from the sky shining
It looks like lightning is striking
I come rapping from Cayman Island
Releasing lava my mouth is a volcano
Floating like Peter Pan
With a pen from Barbar' Ann
Music saved my life
I don't have fans, I have family man
I never had a plan, I just ranted
And, those who criticized me, where are they?
It's more of the same on the radio
More of the same on TV
How hot is the neighborhood
The eleven-year-olds are already armed and smell
If they are from an emigrant family
But his father is on a lot of drugs and without papers.
But you have to dance, you have to forget everything
My blood, that hurts
Look how I'm not wrong
I get stuck and make your skin crawl
I turn off lanterns and spotlights
I don't leave any leftovers on the tablecloth
Here you see me like few others
Bringing life to paper
The world, it is true, is crazy
But I'm crazier than him
I can't sleep
For the efforts of not calling me the goat
In short, what the goat says is: bee!
I am a man of my word
If I shoot soft it boils
And if I shoot to kill he doesn't talk to me
If you don't respect me, I'll give you like the rajatabla tambourine
Shut up, what the Vico brings are not Christmas carols.
Position for punchlines since the times of Menudo and Los Chicos
How the cubaniche with my nose and bembiniche I explain it to you
He sweeps three fields of those that El Chavo del Ocho gave to Kiko
Water, two Godzilla chicks were thrown
Here spreading the fire
We have King Kong in line
We have the verses, we have the syllables
We have the batteries' it's killa'
We have the equivalent of wax that sticks to the skin and removes hair.
Wiki-wiki-wiki
we are here, we are here
we are here, we are here
I'm not a boss because meta blam, blam
we are here, we are here
From eight four to twenty three what I have given you is bam bam
we are here, we are here
I'm not a boss because meta blam, blam
Wiki-wiki-wiki
From eight four to twenty three what I have given you is bam bam
Your burst of hoarseness I kill it with two verses
we are here, we are here
Your singing is yours, you sing with more throat than testicles
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