El Santo

Who is it?
What does he look like?

Wonderful... do you think he comes from heaven?
It could be... but wherever he comes from, I think you should listen to him,
because it seems like he's giving you very good advice.

Who is he, who is he?
Make way for the saint, nothing to do with Christian act,
messenger of hard pure truths like hardcore,
being acclaimed by hundreds of individuals as he passes by.

Chorus:
Make way for the saint, nothing to do with Christian act,
messenger of hard pure truths like hardcore,
being acclaimed by hundreds of individuals as he passes by.

So I connect, let those sitting in the box listen to me,
sniffing talcum powder, I stand and present myself as the saint,
at the slightest provocation I exalt on the mic I stand out,
sometimes running I'm faster than a greyhound, overloading.

That my rhymes and my style have grace,
without a horse, but I ride, I am the noble knight.

And now tell me if you are looking for something...
I have passed the section, and I proclaim myself champion of champions,
in all competitions I am the one who wins, of course
with my brother by my side, with Neas at bat,
with Mr. Puti and Digrax from Santiago.

I become a magician, and it's no miracle,
but when I grab the mic I have consecrated teeth,
like the pope and the bishopric, like Christ and the Christian,
like Egyptians with their gods, even if they are embalmed.

You see who acts, the firstborn making the pick,
opening the most private locks with a pick,
False alarm does not correct, evaluates, as it insinuates to you, that the saga,
so grab the wedge with your hoof, that the saint grumbles,
from Spain more specifically Catalonia,
so you shout hallelujah in kung-fu I am the crane,
and those rhymes if they are bad are not mine but yours.

Fantastic the mic in my power, it's the maximum,
it's hip-hop style of the saint, ecclesiastical,
so cold with the Arctic, wake up with my chant,
and in this game I don't win, I am the referee.

Classic and tactical at the same time, with basic lyrics,
stepping on melted skulls like plastic,
by the acid, leaving your pens invalid,
with my style I sow panic.