Solo 5.7

If they are armored, it's 300 meters
If they wear a helmet, it's 60 less
Very well calculated, perfect anti-tank
Chemistry and science learned in my position

Alone before I was and I was scratching walls
But my clique and duties kept growing
That's how the virus was born, it continues and is felt
Protecting the company, family, and me

My nickname is Chinese anthrax and I wasn't born in China
I don't burn parks, whatever is needed is made
R-s and with a code, my name and caliber
5.7, no one is left free

A new boss is introduced to his group
Also a caliber to the world's weapons
5.7 born in the clique
It arrived in Culiacán in the hands of the Chinese

The company is my life, entrepreneurs, family
Culiacán my home, my place
The virus is approaching, running through my veins
Who is not welcome better not come

We are watching, my boy
I will always be grateful to you
Soon we will be toasting with drinks
Listening to the corrido that I am now singing