Rap Purina

Ay, go over there, my dude
I'm the Neto Kinkillero
Free Arrocito, on the little buttons

Rap chow, turn on the radio, crank up the volume
And if you don't like it, your damn fairy godmother
Here we sell drugs and steal on every corner
And you gotta tip the cops
Rap chow, my music ain't for kids
Rap chow, I always bring the spicy jalapeño
Rap chow, where did that little Spaniard come from?
And if you don't like it, your damn fairy godmother

They wanna drink me up
They freeze when I hit 'em
They can't catch up, not even in Toretto's car
Everyone knows me, I'm the Neto Kinkillero
The only white boy rapping like the dark ones
I got respect from the hot neighborhoods
From the blocks and the alleys
From the criminals, the drug addicts, and the thieves
From the thugs and the big shots
Also from the pensioner gentlemen who are hard workers
The thing is, my music ain't for kids
Too much hitman, the guy sounds, ask Químico

Where did that little Spaniard come from?
I came out of the dungeons of Leganitos
I spent a couple of days for committing a crime
I didn't go to prison thanks to Jesus Christ
And the lawyer I gave a couple of bucks
Brother, I'm in bad choirs, but healthy
My mother is Spanish, and my dad is a gypsy
I hang out with Moroccans and Dominicans
That's why I have such a cool flow
We don't stop getting our hands dirty here
Thanks to Parlita's work, Martians on Uranus listen to us
Don't mess around and everything will be fine, okay?
I'm with five inmates and the shittiest one is 7 feet tall
It wasn't by chance that I got involved
I grew up spitting rhymes, recording it with a [?]
Freestyling on Dr. Dre's beats
Selling drugs and doing express kidnappings
I have a porn video circulating on the web
Look for La Macedonia if you don't believe me

Damn, what a fucking mess
I got all the blocks lit up
I feel at home when they take me in
You don't add up to me, that's why we've split
Many fill up with hate because they see I've gotten in
Since I'm Spanish, they call me dude
But in rap terms, all these motherfuckers are my sons
I'm The Strong People, but without muscles
The [?] are angry and the hitwomen are horny
In rap terms, I have the toughest parrot
If you give me a bachata, I'll outshine Aventura

Berber, roll the hash
[?] Jackie Chan, three of Van Damme and four of Bruce Lee
I'm a movie inside and outside my country
Rappers suck, I'm a fan of Frankie Ruiz
They gotta suck, I'm number one
Bring your rooster and I'll pluck it
It's true I go crazy when I consume
But it's also true I go crazier when I don't smoke
You can't see my face through the weed smoke
Approach a real hood gangster from the capital
I always bring the spicy jalapeño
I give more props to the tigers than designer drugs

As a kid, I stole cars with a rod
Snatched purses from the car window
Like in the Vaquilla movie
But armed with a couple of junkies who stab with syringes
Five euros a gram of weed
And 25 for half a gram of coke
I don't deal drugs, that's what deliveries are for
In Bob Marley's name, I kill the sheriff and the [?]
Darling, darling, I don't know why you worry
You look prettier when you suck me off
I'm gonna die murdered like Tupac
If I don't die from an overdose inside a squat house

Rap chow, turn on the radio, crank up the volume
And if you don't like it, your damn fairy godmother
Here we sell drugs and steal on every corner
And you gotta tip the cops
Rap chow, my music ain't for kids
Rap chow, I always bring the spicy jalapeño
Rap chow, where did that little Spaniard come from?
And if you don't like it, your damn fairy godmother

Go over there, my dude
A psycho hit 1A
With Jul Beats on the little buttons (hehe)
The Strong People
The Parla, what do you say
The Pupimentao
The Red Capo Parser
Berber
Tell me Bin La'
The hitman Yubel Mora
Ultra Mega Universal
Dominican Kinki Clan