Vela Por Tu Vida

"Sometimes you feel tight...
You feel weak...
And when you feel weak...
You think you’re gonna give up...
But you gotta dig deep inside...
Find a strength that won’t let you...
That helps you fight, and fight...
And pushes you...
To reach the top...
Wooo..."

Watch over your life
Don’t go on a trip
In living my life
I’m a singer who’s had highs and lows
Personally, huh
No need to say
Bullets have grazed me
And one almost cost me my life
Raise your hands
All you who envy me
You can’t imagine what I do day by day
I live life every day
Like it’s a farewell
With my crew of the Nuns
Smoking weed
You don’t have the flow
You don’t have the gun
You brag in your songs
About being a tough guy
In the movie you live as a gangster
You don’t roll with the real ones
Don’t make this skinny guy slap you
I’m Rasta
The man of the moment
I give you one up
And the rest so you can jump on the concrete
I am who I am
And not like that wannabe ******
You wanna be like me
Or like the rapper Tempo
Cardboard tough guys
You diss me in your songs
To feel like a man
But I’m not satisfied
I’d like to send you on a trip
With my damn chain
Leave the mark of Illegal Life Records on your head

That’s my life
That’s who I am
That’s how "Illegal Life" and "New Records" live
My song, my flow, my show
My gun, you know
And get wrapped up in my song
They want to see me die
Come for me
If you wanna kill me
I won’t die
My song, my flow, my show
My gun, you know
And get wrapped up in my song

Since the nineties I’ve been singing in the projects
I smoke every day, I kill with metal
I don’t make peace with anyone
And don’t cross the line
Because if you push it
You’ll die at your front door
With the crew Glock, .40 full, thirty-round clips
With me, no one messes around
Because whoever shows up
Baby Rasta, the one with the forty
And don’t provoke me to kill you with my lyrics
You’re fake
You’re not fit for this war
You’ll bleed out in a damn ditch
I’m street, you’re not street
And you know it
And it’s better you don’t slip with me
I was born alone, I mess with no one, I fight alone
And against you, against anyone, I’ll take you down
I don’t need to hang with gangsters, bro
I don’t flaunt chains that aren’t mine, bro
To bring peace here in the club, bro
To have to front with a bottle of champagne
These fools think they’re Superman
All this while we kill each other and don’t mess with me anymore

That’s my life
That’s who I am
That’s how "Illegal Life" and "New Records" live
My song, my flow, my show
My gun, you know
And get wrapped up in my song
They want to see me die
Come for me
If you wanna kill me
I won’t die
My song, my flow, my show
My gun, you know
And get wrapped up in my song

(They should all die!)
(All die!)
(With a shot to the head!)
(Out of envy, let them all die!)
(With a shot to the head!)

"Oh, oh, oh baby...
This is just a little...
Of what’s to come in 'Sentenced'...
You all, don’t threaten me with dull knives...
I don’t mess with anyone in the club or with a crew to roll deep...
You know it...
Sonic...
You hit another one for the collection of Baby Rasta and Gringo...
And this time I’m booking you, because I don’t sell dreams when it comes to booking...
Sooo...
Bear with me!
The Score!
You know who I am!
The Score, what!
The Score, what!
The Score!
Ah, Nando?
Like we’re not afraid of anyone!

(Out of envy, let them all die!)
(With a shot to the head!)

Wooh!
*ch-chak*
Oh...
Haha!"