NUEVO BLUES (part. AKAPELLAH)

What the hustler wants, missions, paper
And a ride that parks in the line (parks in the line)
That work I did it, leveling up
And the most gangsta thing is that it's real (that it's real)

Came through the hood
The line is my couch, bro
I make moves, put in work (skere)
On the swing of the blank page
I know it's a miracle (skere)
That God pays me when I speak
Open the seas for the rank
And let this white gold out
I know honor isn't a riddle and the top is a miracle
When the pencil sees the emblem, and it becomes a signature if I skid
I see the syllables in the vapor, I weave them alive with the handpoke
The hardest ones are like magnets, bro
Always matching with the black code (skrrt)
Dope, white gold, the funk is an orgasm (ah)
God guards the spot smoking flowers with the black book (ah)
Manager of miracles with me, I keep shining
I don't even know where and when the peak is, this is my yard
Slow mode, dropping codes, call me: My love
The tasting of the swing in the syllable of the station
Acrobatics, entering the beat and spitting magic
Manicuring the subtle tone, splitting profits
Of course I want zeros but I don't get desperate
I wait for every damn new January and catapult the whole game
It's not for sport, it's for ego that I dismantle the pasture
Should I respond to these dogs? The sky you can't see, is the least (wuh)

Baby, I got the juice, bringing the new blues (blues)
I water the ground with my light, I'm Diego in Newell's, coming soon
I move fire in alley-oop fingers
Prop, Big Pun, I'm the masterclass of southern flow

I'm here to claim my spot against all those insects
Who think they pay taxes and that makes my texts worth more, no
Mayday, AK's here, now I spin like Beyblade (prra)
We started when I was a kid, and look where we are, they want paper
Corny, you a pussy, I'm not a snitch but you are
I want big bills, I want a big deal, I want to reach with my music
Where I live, God doesn't look anymore, everything's fucked up because of the tussi
A lot of frogs that dress up in rags but their shit ain't exclusive
In my field, there's no one to reign (no), nor tyrant to govern
I rap from Friday to Friday and then the hood comes to see me
I invoke my deity, and the ideas hover over me (amen)
I was always a genius but no one could understand me (prra)
The most hated in the plaza
Your path lacks glory, reminds me of Eden Hazard (uh)
In your comfort zone, you're a mass idol
And when they trade you, nothing happens and you fail (no), and go home
Typical, critical, lyrical, it's not empirical
Digits may overflow but they lack spirit
They want to sound satirical but they're not real (never)
So rigid and timid, my flow overflows with libido

What the hustler wants, missions, paper
And a ride that parks in the line (parks in the line)
That work I did it, leveling up
And the most gangsta thing is that it's real (real)
What the hustler wants, missions, paper
And a ride that parks in the line (parks in the line)
That work I did it, leveling up
And the most gangsta thing is that it's real (that it's real)

Akapellah and—, Aka-Akapellah and—
Akapellah and—, Aka-Akapellah and—
Akapellah and—, Aka-Akapellah and—