Figaratto (feat. SOG)

Ey, talk to me SOG
Is in the motherfuckin' house

Ey, oh
As Pinocchio used to say; one ass leaves and eight arrive
I go gallivanting through Ayacucho
More lit than hell listening to Colacho
The same pants, the cap is my roof

Ey
I sew the wound well
Because there's a lot of filth with scissors around Belén and
I don't believe in God
But I light candles for that ass and say amen

If I have to ask it to stay
It leaves and I end up on the line
A stream for those who shit on me
They only know me through a screen and

Those rappers talk shit about the whores
But even the whores have a better price
And if you don't have haters in this rap thing
Rap will assign you a few by trade

Things clear, kisses dense
Strange beats, cops in jail
If she's playing hard to get, I apply the sayonara
Because there's too much meat for this bone

Where do you go when your soul hurts?
I go to the bar and drink ten beers
I have a curly one, she looks like Vilma
And she plays on my lever with her console

If she's better than me
Why so much interest in saying it every ten minutes?, eh
If she's focused on others
It's because her own thing isn't bearing fruit, ey

My friend, those rhymes are pathetic
There's no worse vice than cocaine
I keep my distance without quarantine
And I dive in headfirst like Yerry Mina

I want to be God to not exist
I want to be God to not exist
I want to be God to not exist
I want to be
Ey, wha— wha— wha— what?

Ey, I want to be God to not exist
I want to be God to not exist
I want to be God to not exist
I want to be God to not exist
I want to be God to not exist
I want to be God to not exist
I want to be God to not exist

They want to be me to kill the beat
I want to be God to not exist
I want to be God to not exist
I want to be God to not exist
I want to be God to not exist
I want to be God to not exist
I want to be God to not exist
I want to be God to not exist

When a man drinks his liquors
It's because his loves are going to leave him
He heads to the bar on 33rd to gallivant