Rifles Rusos (feat. Tego Calderón)

You don't know who I am?
Brr
Tego Calderón, Anuel, Yampi
I'm gonna shit on the devil's mother

Pa-Pablo and Gonzalo, the kilos, the guns, and the sticks
The magazines all filled with hollow points
You're a piece of shit, you're working with the DEA
None of those with me stutter
And in my house the guns are all loaded
I'm a son of a bitch, a shoutout to my mom
Tego, may the sergeant suck my dick
The prosecutor will pick up the casings and the fragments
I have two Rs named Wisin and Yandel
My neighborhood lives in war like in Israel
The magazines are taped and one upside down
I'll give you a smack in the face, and I'll make you Chanel's twelve

Cu-cut, a lot of Russian magazines
Cu-cut, a lot of Russian magazines
Here everyone has knives and Russian rifles
With the drum, yeah, with the drum
Ji-Ji-Jiggiri, no intruders here
Ji-Ji-Jiggiri, a lot of Russian magazines
Here everyone has knives and Russian rifles
With the drum, yeah, with the drum

Even if they give me captivity
Your death will be a mystery
Your corpse won't see a cemetery
We're ready for the trouble
We kill you and leave a note
With your farewell letter and your name on the cover
They say death is wise
We kidnap you and make you disappear by magic
Internal hemorrhage
My sight is an AK-47, Arabian Taliban
And the bulletproof vest I wear it backwards
For the back because in the front I have a hundred-round magazine
And you guys kill people, but we do too
I pay a hundred lawyers and they'll all defend me

I know, Anuel, but stay still
Let's leave it to daddy to take care of it
Those who are, those who give, those who go
You guys in your shitty song is what you talk about
With guile
I've never let any asshole who pulls the trigger humiliate me
Listen to me, Yampo
I'm not from the city, I'm from the countryside
And in my pigsty we make songs
It's just that, it's just that (don't mess with the kids here)
It's just that, it's just that (don't mess with anything)
You don't even raise your voice (burn), they slap you
Value kindness, they're snitches
From the series The Cartel
No one wants to waste time
What do you think about that, Anuel?
What the hell, bite the bembé, shut up
That's why they kill them, that's why they exploit them
They shut you up, two magazines in your big head
So you don't even feel it, straight to the grave
Two magazines in your big head so you don't even get mourned, straight to the grave

Cu-cut, a lot of Russian magazines
Cu-cut, a lot of Russian magazines (a lot, a lot, a lot, a lot)
Here everyone has knives and Russian rifles
With the drum, yeah, with the drum (with the drum, with the drum)
Ji-Ji-Jiggiri, no intruders here
Ji-Ji-Jiggiri, a lot of Russian magazines
Here everyone has knives and Russian rifles
With the drum, yeah, with the drum

65 thousand people at a concert in Paraguay
Off-White masks
In witness protection they sing like Ken-Y
Pocket, put on the sprays
We're gonna hunt you down with two crossed carbons
Like samurai swords (like samurai)
The numbers don't fail, 22 plus 23 equals 45
And murders aren't rehearsed
Wherever they go they explode and yeah-yeah
Turn from death to drag you to hell with the maya
If life is a dream, let death wake them up
I kill you and go to your wake to see you again
I hit you for your coffin and you see, your luck runs out
I told you, I'm real until death

Cu-cut, a lot of Russian magazines
Cu-cut, a lot of Russian magazines
Here everyone has knives and Russian rifles
With the drum, yeah, with the drum (with the drum, with the drum)
Ji-Ji-Jiggiri, no intruders here
Ji-Ji-Jiggiri, a lot of Russian magazines
Here everyone has knives and Russian rifles
With the drum, yeah, with the drum

Hey, kid
The movie is tough, huh?
They're killing everyone
But they lack the balls and the gun
Tego Calderón, Anuel, Yampi
Brr
Real until death, got it, asshole?
Anuel
Tego Calderón
Hey, tell me, Yampi
The street is calm, huh? (Nothing more)
From Averdura