En El Clavo

(They don’t call her, they don’t want her)
(They don’t want to see the reality)
(There’s no tomorrow, we’re all alone)
(They don’t want to see her)

They don’t call her, they don’t want her
They don’t want to see the reality
There’s no tomorrow, we’re all alone
They don’t want to see her

To do what
Everyone else does, they’re all here, let me sum it up
I like them a lot, but I don’t believe any of them
And I’m not talking about rap, trap, that shit doesn’t matter
It’s a deaf industry, pray to see me mute

I don’t make a track to get hits
I write lyrics that the ass-kissers don’t dare to touch
I know damn well what moves them here, but
If I touch the ball, it’s to be Pelé, not a loser
Change up your beats a bit, Blake, they’re the same
Yeah, like all the ones you hear in your headphones, no

I don’t throw principles out the window and you for the one you admire
You’re just a shitty reproduction
You listen to me and you’ll get smarter
I think for you, not what everyone else does
And don’t call me God, it’s not the same, he’s there to listen to you
You listen to me because I exist

I preach, if by example
Not for popularity or to keep them happier
I defend women because I know what they’ve been through
But some see a butt, not the blood they’ve cried
You who know how to pose, you’ve got the brain of a mushroom
Turns out the kid with the shirtless profile pic
Calls a woman a whore because you can see half her tit

Oh, oh, have you seen where you’re going, oh, oh, there’s no solution
Brother, but then I’m the weird one
In this fucking world, being honest costs a lot
Want more bangers? I’ll whip them out with my dick
That doesn’t cost me, even if it’s really expensive
The problem is what the hell is it good for, dude

They don’t call her, they don’t want her
They don’t want to see the reality
There’s no tomorrow, we’re all alone
They don’t want to see her

A little birdie told me that life doesn’t depend
On how hard you work in life, what they expect
That I grind from Monday to the weekend or buy a Kinder egg
And I touch a master’s like Cifuentes
I feel like Snow White in the woods
I talk to my dog because I don’t know about people
I know that all that glitters isn’t gold, it’s just a pose
That’s why the beautiful things aren’t seen, they’re known

I shouldn’t even have been born
I feel ahead of a time that has lied to me
My mistake was looking for something that never existed
That’s why you find nothing if you’re lost
I’m a cynic with beautiful music
That people listen to when they start to see their grave
That this rising so much gives a lot of people the creeps
Because they know there’s a shameful truth in my lyrics

What do they know about music that comes from the soul
I don’t care, in gigs or on the street clapping
What are you gonna teach me, you spoiled kid, if when I dropped
My first track, you were watching Cartoon Network
If you don’t like the music, change it

But don’t tell a genius how to rub a lamp
You’ll understand who sings for the gallery
And who does it to pay the bills day by day
The more time passes, the more I think, it’s all fake
A bed of roses, tell me if you’re going barefoot
One day I’ll lace up, pack my bags and leave for a planet
Where Control Z exists

They don’t call her, they don’t want her
They don’t want to see the reality
There’s no tomorrow, we’re all alone
They don’t want to see her

They don’t call her, they don’t want her
They don’t want to see the reality
There’s no tomorrow, we’re all alone
They don’t want to see her