MASA MADRE

We got our hands in the sourdough
It’s getting more bitter, but it fills the void
The kids in the square smoke late into the night
Until the lights go out or they lose their minds
Entering a gray block
A lot of low blows, my liver's hurting
Playing Parcheesi, smoking Lebanese hash
If the punks show up, I pull tricks like Dynamo
Even the quietest in your crew sings like Figaro
That’s why I hardly ever rest
I hate counting cash with sticky fingers
Here we communicate with our eyes
I see you blurry, no deal
I’m getting old, but my instincts are sharp
Shoes don’t shine anymore, teeth don’t gleam
From eating frog legs and stepping on snake skin
We climbed the slope, independent
Now everyone’s focused on my crew and the gold in my earrings

I got a couple, they can’t sit still
They want to fill gaps in the Art Deco ride
Sometimes they extract with water, sometimes dry
And if they get the water, they play dumb

Give it time, if they didn’t move, they will
Those who turned will come back, boomerang effect (Boomerang)
For informants and press, we got Xaroban
I’m still riding shotgun with my dude in a German car
I walk straight, that’s how I break away from the herd
I’m undefeated, I put marble in the bathroom
A lot of changes in three years, a lot of uphill and curves
But I clean with my right what I mess up with my left

No one knows who you are anymore, I see names falling off the walls
I’m still in VLC, between Perico and Mercedes
Addicts ask me for a hit like they’re looking for the Tooth Fairy
Never been a hater, I don't give a fuck enough
Fuck all that rap shit
Never-Never been a hater
[?]
How many motherfucking gangstas rap?
Never been a hater, I don't give a fuck enough
Fuck all that rap shit
[?]
How many motherfucking gangstas rap?