Que Lloren

Listen, this is calle 13
This song is dedicated to all
the crybabies of the reggaeton genre
So they can learn
Listen
Tell them
Hard

I want them to cry
I want them to cry
I want them to wail
wail, cry

I regret to inform you that today my brain had a steroid breakfast
and your rhyming is half of a sperm
Today I'm going to fulfill one of my pleasures
abusing you like Osvaldo Rios abuses women

Let me give you a couple of details, I'm not street
forgive me for emphasizing it again, I'm not street
And if I see some guts one day, I might faint
or my heart might fail, but

There's only one problem, you're not street either
You're selling records
and promoting yourself on Don Francisco
a record label screwed you over
and you have a manager stealing 20% of your whole career

Lawyers with their whole firm stole all your money
so where's the AK-47, where's your crew
that with just the contract
they've screwed you over big time, really big time

You're a canned product on a shelf
you used to rap and now you're pop like Luis Miguel
a balladeer like Loubriel
'All my life' like Emmanuel
like Juan Gabriel or like Amanda Miguel

Thanks to you being a dumbass hanging around
with a third-grade education
Your rhymes don't even give you enough for an interlude
Your pride as a rapper leans on money
That's why I don't expect any response from you

Like chickens, you cluck
It's very easy to be a slave to the industry
sailing with the tide
You sold yourself cheaper
than a prostitute on the highway
That's the difference between a businessman and an artist

This crazy one, as you say, has good ideas
With my lyrics, I've handed out more slaps
than the Crea homes
I spell out everything around me
Don't call crazy the one who never stutters to tell the truth

My verses don't hesitate, much less in your ears
I haven't mentioned names, but next time
it'll come with a name and surname
Reggaeton artist, don't take it personally
this is to motivate you
I'm not aiming at you
I'm aiming at the one who writes for you

Because my tongue doesn't discriminate between
duos, kings, and divas
I'll treat them all with the same saliva
The crazy one who escaped from the Panamerican hospital has arrived
to give you a lesson on what the word urban means, tell them

I want them to cry
I want them to cry
I want them to wail
wail, cry

If you feel offended, Cry
if what you feel is envy, Cry
If Residente Calle 13 outdid you
wail, Cry

You're just a tourist in the urban genre
Getting sun on your belly
next to your hairdresser and your makeup artist
With a fur coat on an island where it's not cold
You say you're from the people but you no longer live in the neighborhood

You're a thug, all show
Behind a smoked glass
and 30 bodyguards who didn't go to school
Dressed in gold from head to toe
without knowing that thousands die for each link in Sierra Leone

My music isn't for clubs
My music is to plant a seed
in a couple of empty heads
But you're a poser, Feca, grease with lard
Your lyrics are more depressing than a TV Azteca soap opera

That's why I'll never collaborate with any of you
You never come after me
because you know I'll eat you for breakfast
This isn't about winning awards
Or selling records, or cars, women, hotels
Or if you ate 30 seafood dishes

It's about how with words I can ruin your career
in front of everyone like Bin Laden with the Twin Towers
Urban music is about respect
It's about who, in writing
masters the alphabet better

I'm willing to send a message
even if they kick me
I'm willing to endure
four right hooks to the jaw
It's about Calle 13 being urban music at a crossroads
It's about every rhyme I make being immortalized
we're out..

I want them to cry
I want them to cry
I want them to wail
wail, cry

If you feel offended, Cry
if what you feel is envy, Cry
If Residente Calle 13 outdid you
wail, Cry

Hard
I want them to cry
I want them to cry
I want them to wail
wail, cry

If you feel offended, Cry
if what you feel is envy, Cry
If Residente Calle 13 outdid you
wail, Cry

Listen Ivy, you make me pity you
Here, I bring you a knife to cut your veins
What street school, not even street school
My love, to come after me you have to study

Listen Trujillo at home
La Perla at home
Hey, this isn't a joke!!
who comes after me, I'll crush
I'll crush...