Antes Del Meridiano

[Dribble]
What time is it? It's soul AM
And at this time we see people passing by like trains, they don't stop, we are the kings of the platforms
Pure Group Home suspended in time. Rap holds us hostage
With the freedom of those who can choose when and how they work
So they don't retire us
In this paradise overlooking chaos
Women roll like skaters one hundred eighty degrees, bye
The day came to see us at dawn, pale faces, warm beer, from embryo to drunkenness
Check out how we do it, we keep it fresh
Natural, without forcing it because doing so charges interest
Yes, yes I have a mental notebook where I write while living in this earthly hell
I dream more than I sleep
Daytime passengers, these dark circles are not for show
I'm not a modern man, that would be the last straw
I'm a Neanderthal with a poorly placed cap and anti-bribes
City of stone with buildings built on graves
Here are your children and even if you don't care, we paint your facade
You are gray like matter, always affectionate, you will always be our home
Like Gang Starr
We are the best in their life and downhill walk among sonnets of nothingness

[Kaztro]
It's my late night from staying up exhausted on the lawless and self-monitored street
Problems suffer overdoses
Witches in windows, the last thing they want is to sleep
Sleeping peacefully is more than a dream, it's my trophy
They are mysteries that God uses to fulfill his wishes
The soul returns illuminating this fatigue, that the moon has left you with euphoria and excitement
The corner, the motel, under a balcony, has a certain something depending on who accompanied you
Don't just complain, daytime passengers
See that Hip Hop works up to four shifts
We keep overnight, money is not needed
They offer you another drink and you with one in your throat
Lives that are chewed, joys that fade away
Chewing gum and cigarettes sleep as the mist passes
On the edge of the bottle you take life, we are enjoying it no matter if it spins
Surrounded by the neas whoever comes
Their sunken faces come alive when they laugh
Mornings that gift those red eyes, mine sometimes gray but I fulfill my whims, like KRS ONE
We are the best in their life and downhill, walking among sonnets of nothing