Rezaba

Since recording rhymes is easy (to)
I listen to a thousand idiots who don't know what they're saying (oh-oh)
The day they get hot, they'll check them (check, ah)
Or the real bastards will ground them (oh)

They will understand that there are things that are not sung or said
And all those who say they are the toughest, haha
If they were really tough, they wouldn't be singing it

(Today) I learned to die quietly, I've been taught
And I assure you that you know nothing about the C-Kan that I have stored

These idiots want me to speak with bad lyrics
They don't get tired of saying in their songs that they pull it off
Well, may God bless yours from the bullets
Because I don't want to see you crying like a kid

Bastard, you're a singer, better take the wheel
It costs me nothing to be the way I was before
I even feel like I've lived too much, blessed death
For your damn luck, I'm with pure criminals

Amen, may God bless you, don't call anymore
Record, it's no longer necessary to defame
Don't speak lies that they don't know
Because they know me and recognize it

That's why they act, always avoiding the friction
I, like José José, making money with the voices
That my God gave me, that not even God measured
And said: Son, for this shit you are the boss

As a child, I prayed for God to protect me
I asked for my sins to be repaired
So that one day I would leave the street
But now they want me to come back, what will I do?

To speak of violence and to shoot
I still have a rosary among the beads
So that my family is not abandoned
Because my enemies will not make me stop

Years ago, assaults on the street, iron in hand
And I assault the internet, as Ritmo Urbano said
And although I left the robberies, the sale of illegal things
While I smoke marijuana, I'm still a criminal

Normal, criminals from the government say it
El Cochi said it: This life is fucking hell
I have notebooks like Pablo's
Everyone would like to read them, only I know what I'm talking about

I haven't changed my vocabulary, my lexicon from years
I keep it, let's say, for special occasions
Like when my kids mess up, and damn
Dad is coming to clean their diapers

Literal, your notebook against mine doesn't stand a chance
Rhyme for rhyme, the best pound for pound
Do you calibrate?, pray to Saint C-Kan to revive them
It's not bad vibes, ring so they can write to you

As a child, I prayed for God to protect me
I asked for my sins to be repaired
So that one day I would leave the street
But now they want me to come back, what will I do?

To speak of violence and to shoot
I still have a rosary among the beads
So that my family is not abandoned
Because my enemies will not make me stop (yo)

I would like to know of a bastard who carries what I have put into this shit pulling
And who has the same amount of tracks as I have to date playing on the streets
But all I see are kids I taught who keep talking

What they don't know is that when
They are already going, I'm already coming
Don't talk to me about war, I'm in charge of that
My whole damn career fighting
If it's not one monkey, it's with the other guango

And anyway, they keep fighting
In any style, I'm in charge
But in thug, I come out playing
You know who's sounding
It's José Luis with Omar and Alejandro

(Auf!)