Keloke (feat. Peco)

Keloke, kelowa, Keloke, kelowa, Keloke, kelowa
Keloke, kelowa, Keloke, kelowa, Keloke, kelowa
Keloke, kelowa, Keloke, kelowa, Keloke, kelowa
Keloke, kelowa, Keloke, kelowa, Keloke, kelowa
Keloke, kelowa, bitches I feel alright
Keloke, kelowa, I only live for the night
Keloke, kelowa, I tell you the truth
They tried to lock me up, but I'm underage

Keloke, kelowa, we're from the street
Dripping like Pity, I have my Versace
The guys smoke cable, they don't play ring raje anymore
I took 20 pills, I might faint

Oh baby a shoutout to Kaydy, ah
Selling to minors, they buy it like candy
What's wrong with you? I don't have a house
Like the abayarde, you're chatty chatty

It annoys me WhatsApp, you go to your house
Your ranch is broken, paint the cup, cup
And those bitches don't even want to see me in stickers
Busy with Palermos, we're making money
Ask my neighbor if your girl screams
Pussy rapper don't come to me with crypt tales

And if they look for beef, let them come from rich kids
The bullets don't hit me, I'm wearing a vest
And keloke son of a bitch, I sell drugs in the gardens
To five-year-old kids, to buy my pellets

I kill with my own hands, I don't need a killer
I dye my hair red and massacre the cinema
Damn, I got you stuck on the realness
Mister, I have a blister to wash it down with Quilmes
Taking so much drugs, I almost entered the Guinness Record
Bitch I have my group and I don't buy with fools anymore

Keloke, kelowa, Keloke, kelowa, Keloke, kelowa
Keloke, kelowa, Keloke, kelowa, Keloke, kelowa
Keloke, kelowa, Keloke, kelowa

And keloke, kelowa, keloke, kelowa
I'm in my bed with my baby
Pure family problems
That's why I don't look for anything, nah

It comes along with failure
That made me encascar so I stabbed him
I gave him my hand but he ate my whole arm
At this point I'm not here to pay for the dishes
That they broke, ñero
And baby is pure candy
And loves to give it to me fearlessly
They wanted me to screw up while they fingered each other
They had forgotten that the boys had grown up
Street blow, lots of fissure
In 2012 being 40 clonas high
My mom asking what I had on my waist
Knowing it was good but having doubts

And the saddest thing is that I had a good time
Collecting coins for a hundred-dollar joint
Living in Palermo and not living like a king
And I can assure you that I don't give a damn about the law, bitch