ACRU (BZRP Freestyle Sessions #4)

What's up?
Yeah, yeah

Yo'
Aba-yo', aba-yo', aba-yo', aba-yo', yo'
Ah, yo', aba-yo'
Yeah

Yo, broda, is back el 1, Young Roman
In taking out those toys I have a diploma
My words are true, not taken as a joke
We continue underground, in the round we don't give up

I have the gloves, go ahead
I spit the most wanted verse
I don't hang diamonds, I have art
Rhythm that breaks you in the Cypher
50 thousand ways to hit you with this dance

Crazy, there's no more back and forth, I only travel on the train
A-C-R-1 and again, smoking Eden flowers
I don't release fetén, I carry the ten, what do they think?
I paint the tag of one again on their forehead

Ah, I only bring my honey
Who's dissing, crazy? Tell me who
And I just warmed up
And I'm going to bother, my friend

I spit fresh, I throw, because I'm still alive
I have clear each of the rhythms
That I write to the game at the decisive moment
I define it, I just give the goal, I forgive, but I don't forget
I'm still messed up
I stop them with my elbow, crazy, they're hidden

What's going on? Young Roman entering the house
Dribbling like Hazard, moving it like in salsa
What's going on? The king of the comparsa
My rhythms are not taken lightly
It's taken as a rise

Hand in hand with the one who considered me a brother
I don't think about anything, that's why I clarify
I'm increasing this verse, it's not expensive
I'm like in a circus, my shots sound
Better be sighted, because I have the pen on my side

The sharp tooth is in Stalingrad
They know that this field is mined
With skills, underground styles
The kid who lives it brought my abilities, tell them
That this ten is back
I release this fetén, crazy, I'm at a hundred
Percent, as I tell you
They know I burst it, this is cooked slowly

It's my moment, they know they're seeing it
With open eyes, the 10 is converting it for you
To the goals, change on the Røde
I have thousands of stories inside the pen
Travel with my pollen, they cheer my goals
I'm drawing texts from the pen

I leave tags, the hot thug but in Pac mode
I'm not like Young Thug, like Nate Dogg, I give you more
I spit fresh texts, I go to the core
They know they're doing it, I have peace

Who's back? Who's back? Meet the punch-line
Just bringing out the truth, like Suge Knight
In the hood night there are no light cuts
My shit reproduces, they know only blues follow
They chase me like the pen, and I couldn't
Lose myself from this fresh rhythm, I left, I stayed

Always on low beats
They know very well that I'm not in VIP
A.C.R.U. breaks you in the club
Crazy, A.C.R.U. yo', Young Agustín

Aba-'Tín, aba-'Tín, aba-'Tín
Aba-Young Agustín
Aba-'Tín, aba-'Tín
Ah
Aba-Young Agustín

Aba-Young Agustín

Pure noise as I fly with the Widow
While I'm the chosen one, like my friend Guido
Some play the güiro, I only pursue the meaning
That leads me to only shoot good sounds