Untitled

At home they teach us two reasons not to fail
One is to be someone normal
The other is to honor mom and dad until the end

But rules and norms are not for me
Since I was little, I showed signs of being like this
At home they expected a title
Time later, I became the big fish in the circle

I separated from my school
Hip-Hop freestyle from Monday to Monday
Mom doesn't want her son to smoke
She fears he'll fail
She educates herself, improvises, and impresses everyone on the street

Now she enjoys it when she sees the flyer
Or when a kid approaches me with a beat to scratch
But when one puts in effort and works it

There are always gossips and witches talking nonsense
I'm a freestyler and they ask what I do for a living
Shut your mouth and respect the low life

They talk about money but where are they?
They talk about bitches but where are they?
They only shoot in Counter Strike
They have fancy cars but they're from the hood

Your tattoos don't intimidate me
I have more punchlines than a cactus
They lack to reach my status
You still have to take the bus

Take, take, shut up and take
Rolling Stone, you're fake
Take, take, shut up and take
I have more views and bitches too, Argh!

And it's not enough, it seems little to me
But now your pussy asks me for photos
I don't make money with cocaine
But I'm still in the trap-game

I sell such hot beats
That with one you already say
God damn!
Argh!
My name is Akapellah, and my clientele
Are girls, grandmas, and young people
Give me mine, if not, get lost
There's no cash, so screw you

Bolivars no, bolivars no, we have to earn in dollars
Seriously, sorry man, but the beat is ugly and I don't want to wait in line
If you want to check it out, don't play around man
So you can enjoy it: Civilians, dealers
Killers carrying rifles and guns man (woah!)

But where are they?
So hyped because they're from the clan
Of the fake MCs, saying they're number one
They talk too much shit but
Where are they? (Oh!)

Where are they?
They talk too much but, where are they?
So hyped because they're from the clan
Of the fake MCs, saying they're number one, Nigga!

It's like never before, How?
It's like never before, How?
Omega The CTM, The south is hardcore
You know who I am

Yeah... You already know who I am
The only freestyler in the scene who never burned out
How time flies, right... Like before 2013, like always 2015 sounded

Now I got exclusive shit, excuse me kid
Your stupid hit doesn't play here
We're not bloods or crips here
What we have are black marketeers, revolutionaries, police and detectives

So think three times about what you're going to say
If not, silence or the atmosphere may become tense
The rules are easy, the agile survive
Tattoos won't give you courage, this isn't Los Angeles

If you dream of winning a Grammy, good
I'm going for the top of the pyramid
But my own as Kendrick says
Doing freestyle and setting fire to the mic like Jimmy Hendrix

I achieved what you dream of
I covered myself in tattoos and if I want I let my hair grow
I have a home, a small business
I feel like never before, the struggle was worth it

So what do I talk about in my songs?
Poverty, politics, and problems
Please brother, I live in Venezuela
The day more than thirty die per week in your neighborhood, you lose
The desire to be Mandela

It's a shame, I don't want trouble like brawlers
Nor do I want them to throw flowers at me, just enjoy and ignore
And if there are contradictions with my previous albums
It's because my music influences my emotions

So form your opinions
In some blog where they talk about hip hop but not in my lyrics
You're looking for my clones and I'm thinking of scoring goals, buying mansions
Other big mouths will come out soon
Saying that my west coast flow was because we saw straight outta compton
Ok fool, let's talk about Nate Dogg, Coolio, Bone-Thug
Or do you only listen to Drake and Young Thug?

You're the same age as Pedro
What we don't have is the same shit in our brains
While you go out to party, I lock myself up to work
That's why I'll have cars and a mansion on a hill, without drugs and without guns