En Lo Puro No Hay Futuro

My uncle was a cousin
Of a friend of my grandpa
Who was a Native American
Who fell in love
With a Tico girl
Born on a schooner
Packed with slaves
That were stolen from Jamaica

In purity, there's no future
Purity's in the mix
In the mix of the pure
That before being pure was a mix

My uncle's mother
Married a gypsy
Who played the guitar
With six fingers on his hand
And accompanied a payo
Who sang bulerías
With a Black guy from Chicago
Who claimed to be his brother

In purity, there's no future
Purity's in the mix
In the mix of the pure
That before being pure was a mix

They say my grandpa
Was a blonde banana farmer
Who came to Cuba from Spain
To settle in Havana
And while heading to Santiago
He met a mulatto
A mix of tobacco and sugarcane
Who spoke to him in French

Gentlemen, in purity, there's no future
Gentlemen, purity's in the mix
Gentlemen, in the mix of the pure
Gentlemen, that before being pure was a mix
Gentlemen, in purity, there's no future
Gentlemen, purity's in the mix
Gentlemen, in the mix of the pure
Gentlemen, that before being pure was a mix
Gentlemen
Gentlemen
Gentlemen
Gentlemen
Gentlemen