Al Ritmo (E2) (feat. DJ Alex)

Pay attention
For the tough ones, a kiss
And for the fools, gunshots (prra)
DJ Alex

We, the boys, to the rhythm
The wine jug is full
Steak for the fools and for all their friends
Do as you please, we welcome it here, and

We, the boys, to the rhythm
The wine jug is full
Steak for the fools and for all their friends
Do as you please, we welcome it here, and

It shows on the face that he has cash
They wanted a bus, I arrived by bus
They go up and down when I say so
This is nothing, it's a correction

I don't give myself away, I don't buy or lend
Even less with you, who are my children
I look at you from afar and laugh
Keep boasting, I'm not bothered

Start strong, cat, and shoot
You're not a thief, nor do you have it in you
We're watching if you turn this way
We're in the rhythm and they want to kill each other

They make you pay and then touch
I'm going to sing, everyone jump
I tell my life, you're just a toad
For the good boys, soon freedom

I arrived from a trip, I was in Canada
I brought you a curious gift, take it
You don't have a sequence, you have to invent
Mom, bless me, I'm going out to win

It became a habit and now I want more
I like money, I like to spend
Always high tops and tight visor
We're in our own world, you pretend

We, the boys, to the rhythm
The wine jug is full
Steak for the fools and for all their friends
Do as you please, we welcome it here, and

We, the boys, to the rhythm
I know you like my style
Pretty face, daring
Elegant on the street and refined
They wanted war with me
Now I have a reason

If I were you, I wouldn't neglect myself
If I were you, I wouldn't neglect myself
If I were you, I wouldn't neglect myself, I'
Says

Crazy, crazy, shut up
We come bringing another drink
We make the pill in our own thing
You pay for the prota', they raise the fee
They walk with the stick, cat with boots
Look how they look, look how they explode
We're on the field, we want more coke
We have jaguars jumping with rocks

Do you feel touched, they always touch you
I'll give you forks to eat soup
Shorten the hanger, not the same clothes
Send them a fuse, none can handle
They're at a disadvantage if they're in flip-flops
We're waiting to make them balls
Let them come one by one or, if not, their troop
And then run with broken guard, and

Sincerely
The Band of Millions
7-2-3
I'm CF, mom
DJ Alex