Mentes Enfermas
El Komander
Sick Minds
With stained hands
We continue in command
Killing enemies
Who challenged us
Cleaning the ground
Fighting battles
We never negotiate
The plaza, the territory of Mayo Zambada
There's no truce in war
I'll keep fighting
I'm really sick
I'm very bloodthirsty
I always go to the front
Sowing death
Chopping opponents
With blood on my hands
Defending the legacy
Calibers present to
Open up their heads
I kill and undo
In the style of the East
Bloody demons
Protect me
For my enemies
In instructor attire
Cino Antrax, 5.7
Sharp knife
That has backed me up
To cut off heads
That have insulted me
Enemies, come
Taste the wrath
Know that the 14
Defends with blood
The assigned territory
I belong to the company
I was born in the adjustments
My name is Gonzalo
They call me the 11
If it's combat in war
I act first
With bazooka and horn
Like in Obregon, I leave
A mess
Sick minds
They say we carry
Because if they come across us
We'll tear them apart
Always ready for war
Always to the death
Violent, bloody, and always
Attacking
