Fuck NPO

The fucking faggots from New Pig Order didn't pay me
They called and said let's do a collaboration
We'll give you ten thousand euros just for a promotion
I said: Where do I sign?
And they brought out a bunch of papers
If I put my signature on it, it was to collect the cash
And those sons of bitches still owe me
In life, don't buy anything from them
They are neoliberal scammers and on top of that, they charge too much
Since I've been my own artistic director, I feel weird (very weird)
I'm going to give a correction for having stayed with me
To the owner of the shitty NPO brand (when I catch you, son of a bitch)
That's how debts are collected in this land, assholes

Man, if I were Rosalía now
And these assholes would be rich, man
This is just not right
If I catch him now, if I catch my buddy
I'll kill him, bro

I'm going to make a chorizo with the guts of the NPO pig (fuck NPO)
Those bastards scammed me with papers and I even made a song
I posted stories on Instagram that didn't mention my posts
And now if I delete them, they'll hit me with a lawsuit for the papers
To hell with the papers
These are European things, I would solve it with a brawl (like hai)
I'd cut off your fingers, and you wouldn't bother me anymore (not one)
Stamped on the ground, that's how I have to see you
I swear, anyone I see dressed in NPO, I'm going to hit them (hahaha)
And the worst part is that they sell the shirts for 30 euros
And I sell them on my website for 15
Now the shitty legal documents demand
That I keep the product on my website at the agreed price
They're not satisfied with me giving them the promotion of their life for free
They want to sell shirts on my website that they don't pay me for
And the lawyer says that in a trial they win
That legally they are right, but it doesn't add up to me
These are European things, my capital is not Madrid (no way)
I'm from Malaga, son of a bitch, Andalusia is my country
We are the blacks of Spain, illiterate and marginalized
As Blas Infante said: Andalusians, rise up
I respond like the captain when I was a tadpole (my captain)
Sorry I'm not getting up, but I'm better off sitting (hahaha)
Well, I'm going to stand up, I'm going to stop fooling around
Come on, one, two, and three (how beautiful Andalusia)
Let's get serious because we're going to sing the anthem
Andalusians want to be what we were
What we were in the past, poor and vassals
Servants of landowners and pimps on horseback
You might think I'm lazy, you're not wrong
But I have seven albums under my belt, kid
With Sceno and Gharuda we did it alone
Everyone loves me
I'm the guy with the most cousins, damn
Ask my Latinos if they love me over there
I've never been a foreigner even though I change countries
I thank life for all the things I've seen
I've never had money, but sometimes I was happy
I've been living in Fuenlabrada until I lost my mind
Then I went down to Malaga because my paranoia
Calms down with the restless sea rocking the buoy
I consider myself an artist, but first I'm an idiot
Because now the idiot is the one who doesn't do it for money
But I'm happy as long as you listen to me and know that I'm one of the real ones

I don't sing just to sing (I don't sing just to sing)
I don't sing just to sing
I don't sing just to sing
I don't sing just to sing
Roars of intestines, in my neighborhood there are always sirens (Let's go!)
Trained with palm and sorrow
Necks full of veins with gold chains
I don't sing, son of a bitch, that's what parrots do
For calling you a son of a bitch I'm losing money (weed)
I can't call you anything else
I'm not going to stop being honest for the shitty money
Give me Coleta's allowance, I don't want more, well
I don't need more, I don't need shots to commit a crime (give me the allowance, man)
My balls are bigger than your favorite artist's
He wants to invite me to shots, but
I don't snort Clamoxyl, his uncle
Let everyone consider me a genius, that's my aspiration
Bad vibes in the air, my biggest addiction
With a bastard face lighting another joint
It's Holy Week, a lot of people from Madrid come down
Ay, ay, ay, ay, ay, ay

Take that
The good Caliphate
How beautiful, how pretty you are, damn
And that Dominican fake better not say anything to me (jincho)
Close that junkie mouth and learn to rap (haha)
To me, you're a toy, you can't play in my league (toy)
If you want to fight like a Capricorn, we can kill each other in a ring
But I'm 70 kilos and half a meter taller than you, really?
Not even for that, bocapeste, you can't play in my league
It would be abuse, and I don't like to abuse (no)
That's why we already have the National Police (uh)
With an open hand, I would give you what you wanted to earn
Those who talk the most about the street don't know anything about the street
Because he who lives it, cousin, keeps his mouth shut
With a slap, I would teach you what respect and humility are

I live with my best friend and my partner
That would be frowned upon if I lived in the eighties
Living in a crisis has its advantages
There are people who don't eat, really? Are you telling me this?
Let these shitty politicians legalize weed
Fascists camouflaged as minister candidates
I've already been President and each album is a milestone
Pablo Iglesias used to write me DM messages
This is culture, even if it gets you hard
This is culture even if it offends a group
This is the culture that arises from garbage
Among the olive fields
This is culture even if silent mouths shout it
This is culture even if it doesn't generate money
This is the culture that arises from garbage
Between the sea and the fishing boats
This is culture even if it doesn't appear in books
This is culture that comes from ancient times
This is the culture of those who need help
But endure without saying it
This is culture, the one that floats through my land
This is culture that never runs out
This is the culture that remains perennial
No matter how many centuries pass, Foyone