Ferran Adrià

The rhythm is presto
I put pesto sauce on the pasta
Feel like Ferran Adrià
All those who follow you, who follow you to the end
When you rise to the sky, I will play at your funeral
All looking for Molly
31 is on top of the podium
The podium makes me sick
All looking for Molly
31 is on top of the podium
The podium makes me sick
I no longer think about those haters
They make me hallucinate
We enter the kitchen and we go cookin' macaroni
We go crazy with Kid Pi and Molly
Now we make Ferrari
Valentina
And a party

We go to the studio, we go to make a song
The pussies stop me, they say
You have nothing good, Catalan is disgusting and I don't understand anything
But I ignore them, keep smoking my joint
The rhythm is presto
I put pesto sauce on the pasta
Feel like Ferran Adrià
All those who follow you, who follow you to the end
When you rise to the sky, I will play at your funeral
All looking for Molly
31 is on top of the podium
The podium makes me sick
All looking for Molly
31 is on top of the podium
The podium makes me sick

(A kiss to those who didn't believe
And look where we've arrived, ha
Hey dude, you know we don't sell out
Long live Catalan, damn)
I'm ironing the cod
I feel like Kyrie Irving, my hand is hot
I don't play with them
I feel like I have to train them
Long live Tarradelles, long live trap in Catalan
One for Llit Bar
Two for the purples we used to catch under the park
Frying bacon on the rooftop
Blessed to sit at the table and always have a dish on the table
Girl, what is not bought is always the most expensive

This shit changes and now it drives me crazy
They burn out easily like a piece of chocolate
They talk bullshit without selling anything
And for the Masia I become a pilot
We don't sing for fame, we sing for a feeling
Green, Sedemusic in the heart, I always have my people
I know they would kill and I would kill for them
Because they are family and I love them like my own children
I love them like my own children
A lot of shit coming out of the mouth, little mouth to talk