Deos Sucios

In the wee hours
Gazing at stars

Dirty gods, Sticky Fingaz, Slam
They're bad neighborhoods, give it your all, come
All those tigers are no longer thirsty
All the houses with the people sad
Because their children go to the INEM
There's no money for that Mercedes-Benz
I want the strength, I need Ben
At 11 at Big Ben
At 12 will be the Big Bang
I've put a Marlin on this rifle
I've already planned my plan
Today I'm fine, damn, I don't stop
From giving a wine to a Moët Chandon, expensive
A clandestine, a thief, of course
They're my crumbs, come on, let's kill
Don't follow me, you can't ride
I'm always fine, a damn, cool
There's a lot of style, rich on, I win
Since I was a kid, as an adult, as an elder
It's my league, come on, aim
There's no intrigue if I can't win
They're fake, brother, they retire and I win
They signed up in vain, if you throw, gypsy
Without calling the payos, without trembling hands
Fool, a thief, a nobody
I roll a joint while I watch the door
Death is knocking to take me to the gallows
To get on the boat, how the pig knows
It smells like goat blood, Satan is already putting his mark
Days pass quickly, just drinking pale
I've eaten at that Cabi, bro, they've put on rock and roll
The sun is just rising, I put M in that bowl
Stop here, I'll buy alcohol, they see us and scream goal
Take out the scarf, DTS gang
Tell me who's in charge (Ayax and I), the wave will reach you
First will go the bomb, this is the jungle
The lion always kills the zebra

In the wee hours
Gazing at stars

Children's bread is not played in the gambling den
They're with the fight on the corner, all confused
Just signals and winks, never speak
He's seen something and takes it to the grave
He squanders his face behind the burka
They ask for you, I think they're looking for you
Who's with you when everything collapses
All those friends are only there for the party
Hey yo, b-boy, I'm coming with the convoy
Today, it's Viceroy, not a caravan, it's Detroit
The polos are melting, the seas are rising where I go (where)
With the turtle like Master Mutenroy
First round, dead proof
We have an appointment
Sons of bitches in the avenue
Montmartre, Moulin Rouge
Who only listens to Jul, Sousou
In La Rábita, the ghost of the Russian beach
Simply Ayax, abuse
I look for pearls, diver
Omertà, Mario Puzo
Brawl, scam
The tap runs dry
In the Albayzín there are murals that preserve my graffiti
The dirty gods, Sticky Fingaz, Slam
The muse has Stockholm syndrome, doesn't feel like a hostage
Sometimes has two faces like Harvey Dent
We've been in the top ten for over six years, damn