Tic Toc

Open the channels for me to record this mess
And arrest me because I'm going to unearth this dead guy
Too much time to write a song
If Puerto Rico were Miami, you'd be battling with LeBron
Grab the damn pencil, I'm going to give it to you until you shut up
I don't want more excuses to fix things, or for you to mess it up
And stop calling Jaime to fix things at the concert
Money is not my problem, I'm settled on that side
Free Tempo!, you cried a lot for them to release you
Gather all the people's signatures and match them
To come out boasting about kilos and Bugattis
Puerto Rico took you out, so do the concert for free
No complaints, Mexicano is behind bars
Don't try to fool people
You went to Manatí to look for some old acapella
And you released it as if everything had been recorded together
Anyone can do it, and time proves you right
Because time keeps passing and you're still on the same plane
Stop talking about it, as if your voice mattered
In all the topics it's the same crap: the one who got out of jail
No one cares how long you did
You can do 30 years, you're still the same joke
The Narco Gangster of the topics, to scare people
You went to adjustments and said it was all a lie
And in court you put on a stripper show
So the judge and the prosecutor unzip you
You unzipped all the federal prosecutors
So they reduce your years and drop the case

You know what?
Pay the cost to be the boss
It's the undestructible, the flawless
The Princi

One-two-two, one-two-three, testing
Someone explain to me what's going on
I'll call Elías if the police arrest me tomorrow
I'll do a year and come out with 10 albums on the same day, damn
You had time to think and to write
To erase what you don't like, to edit and to continue
Time is irrecoverable, you can't turn it back
You wasted it in the cell doing push-ups and jumping jacks
Now he's a model, so no one touches his hair
Giving away Jordans but doesn't even control Carmelo
He puts Free Music on the album, of course, it has to be free
If the songs are crap and all the beats are crap
You're confused, Echo tell me, what happened to us?
I was the one who approved your mortgages in Dorado
I was the one who gave you a hand when no one else did
You died on the shore after all you've swum
I converse with them, I live the movie in reverse
My wife was a stripper and my girl Miss Universe
The beauty crowns all over my head
And the street women never straighten up
I, Tempo!, rest in peace and learn humility
You say they received you like Tito Trinidad
And it doesn't match, because those people have given you the left
Or they've all left you because you treat them like crap
Who are you, damn? Oh, right, the big shot
Bosses don't cry behind bars
I was crazy for you to come out so this shit explodes
Yours was The Show?, I never heard it on Coyote

Not on Coyote, not on the street
Not in Las Margaritas, nowhere
Because you don't sound, damn, you're out

I got a hair transplant, botox, and also got liposuction
That's why you're old and I look like a kid
That's why a year goes by and I feel like I'm resurrecting
Bhudda told me: They can't knock you down, not even as a team
I'm tough, damn, and with me no one comes out
They soap the floor for me and there's no way I slip
Don't lie down, you owe Lester 5 thousand pesos
And you call him: 'I'm going to throw you a party to pay you back'
Disoriented, we have your data, you take everything on credit
And to not sound stupid you say you're busy
I'm not accusing you, even in Ponce they know this is abuse
Rafaelo don't call me anymore, I deal with Russo
A snitch, snitch, snitch
When I was killing it in the studio you were messing around
Don't brag about being a thug and a boss
Because when I see you, I'll get you, -got you
Too much flow for this era
You have to climb all the stairs again
Don't talk about what you don't know, don't brag about hustling
Because your time passed a whole decade ago
You're old, and you can't even give advice
Everyone knows the toughest in Ponce is Ñejo
Move to Vega Baja, or see who you work with
Because you rapping after this doesn't make sense to me
I'm screwed, 'Coscu you don't leave Humacao
Why would I leave if all of you boss me around?
And I don't intend for you to understand everything I do
I'm blowing up on the radio, on the street I already have Kendo, yeah!

And I did 11 years and 6 months
And you know what? Don't bullshit!
Wow!
Find him a trophy, find him a cake
Because the man didn't bullshit, wow!
Little motherfucking Wizard
Young Hollywood
The Brain-brain-brain, El Mueka
That's my main man, nigga
The Princi
White Lion
See you now?, I see you, on the back of studio
Doing your little money dance
And don't compare yourself to me, damn
You know that it's too easy for me, too easy
That's one channel for the beat, one channel for the vocals
Well, one channel for the voice
Because what I drop is one
And I kill you, easy
Brrr
Bryan Lee!
Millo!
Oh my God
Rottweilers