Arcangel Part 2

Yo, did you hear about Arcangel's diss track against Mexicano?
What's up with that dude, that little punk?
Arcangel's coming for Mexicano, and you know Mexicano's the real deal.
You know what's up, babe, all that bragging, he better pay up
The fifteen grand he owes to Poke,
Who used to dress him up, and all that was left was to lace his shoes.

We're at war, you ain't getting out alive,
Here, in this war, your name's gonna disappear.
Here, in this war, in a second, you’re gonna die,
So, war, you want war. (x2)

If you die tomorrow, I swear, my dude,
You'll be front-page news with seven shots to the face.
It ain't too crazy to decorate your face with seven AK rounds,
Let 'em pierce your wings.

You’re messed up with me, with Lele, and with Endo, hold up the pressure,
While I come through and shut it down.

We're at war, and we're digging graves,
If you act dumb with the AK, I’ll run you over.
Marvel, you’re more of a movie than a story,
I count on myself, no backup needed.

Chill, Mexicano, these fools are looking for trouble,
I load the Glock and my slick crocodile, don’t act dumb,
Or I’ll shave your face, prraaaa! And it all falls apart.

Hey, Mexicano, Poke's reporting from the fortified city (La Perla),
My hood where I pulled the kid out of the alley, the little dude from the alley.
He better chill and take it easy, we’re grandkids,
Two point fifty, you know what I can do, Cocobon.
Mine were there, yours ran away,
Mine stayed, and you cried, you fake, you whiner.
All that bragging, and you’re just a wannabe, keep on bragging,
And pay me the fifteen grand, you know what’s coming,
Aragua Records is on the way.

We're at war, you ain't getting out alive,
Here, in this war, your name's gonna disappear.
Here, in this war, in a second, you’re gonna die,
So, war, you want war. (x2)

This is a street massacre, but with no mercy,
You think you’re a warrior, but you’re a Trojan horse.
This kitchen’s on fire, and look how the soy sauce looks,
Mine’s like the coya, like rice without onion.

The Trojan horse, I’m a BMW, and you’re a Corolla,
Dumbass, you’re a little monkey from Cambolla.
If I don’t sell records, I’ll throw two things in the pot, praaa! Damn, mama.
We’re going wild with the '90s crew in the hood,
To blow up your grill and all the lights.
Arcangel got a nose job so they’d notice him, you want Endo
To flip it with one punch.

How the blood rushes, how it gives claustrophobia,
When the high hits, when these three get rowdy,
How the blood splatters in this track that’s wild,
How the blood splatters in this track that’s wild.

We're at war, you ain't getting out alive,
Here, in this war, your name's gonna disappear.
Here, in this war, in a second, you’re gonna die,
So, war, you want war. (x2)

Mexicano, tell this little piggy we’re exterminating the rats,
Ghostbusters wannabe, you’re faker than a thirty-eight dollar bill.
Tariguella, when I had a BMW, you had a weak AK, praaa!
Easy, I’m the one packing heat, orient yourself.

I got a couple of other rappers who want to tell you a thing or two
In my songs, so... Hold up the pressure of the seventh element
Of hip hop.

Endo, out of the three of us, no one’s saving you, even if you ain't packing.
I can give you a couple of bald spots, you know.

Stop talking nonsense, you ain't got money, you know you’re broke.
In Santo Domingo, I’m here from Puerto Rico,
You were in Isla Verde at my place,
And sometimes I’d sneak you in at four in the morning
To grab the guns by five-thirty, you know it.

You’ve changed, now you’re just a little pig, look at you.
Keep throwing shots, keep on throwing, so we can be worth something, son, keep it up.
You know the law is Endo, Mexicano, and the Domi too.