Voltio

Going up, going up...
Going up, DJ Blass...
Going up, going up...
Going up, this is what it says...

Daddy, I'm Julio Voltio
Old school Cambumbo
From Parque Ecuestre
Now things are hot
I'm with my devil woman
I won't measure my words anymore
Those who talk about me
Haven't made me lose my cool
What happened to you, cebu
The chenchu didn't work for you
You and your consul are leaking pus from the wound
If you were manchu
I love being in the mix
You light a candle for me
But my light hasn't gone out
I'm not screwed, because what's mine is coming out soon
Masters of the style, with the crocodiles lit up
You pretend to be rotten
You're my children
And you're in trouble
You might get burned
Stop the nonsense
You're looking for trouble
Wherever Voltio is, the place is packed
Crazy ones
Crazy ones
And lick the floor
When I touch them with lemon
I don't provoke
Nor do I hint on the radio
Throwing names
And throwing them again

I'm the stick
But if I get excited
I pull them from the chapter
Don't go around saying Voltio is bad
Fucking mess, scoundrel
You guys are dirtier than your own bosses
Daddy, stop the fuss
And the tantrum
And your cronies, don't threaten me
Because you might get bugs
I'm the stick
But if I get excited
I pull them from the chapter
Don't go around saying Voltio is bad
Fucking mess, scoundrel
You guys are dirtier than your own bosses
Daddy, stop the fuss
And the tantrum
And your cronies, don't threaten me
Because you might get bugs

I! I!
This is how it goes...
I!

Daddy, masters of the style
Sells high like a kilo
There, envy doesn't leave them alone
Stop lurking and trying to provoke me
You don't bring goats nor your pupils
When you snore and hint
I handle them from here
Then I assimilate it, I hope you don't lose the thread
If you lose it, then I'll split
I look for WD-40 to oil the crocodiles
Let's kill those paros with one shot
He says, he says
Whoever hides, let the other surrender
The pretty one, go
You put on skates when the war breaks out
Hey, come here, don't go
What happened, are you afraid of getting hurt by the papaya
Come on, who the hell is going to charge me for the mistake
I'm the chipping hammer, the one who knocks down the wall
Be careful not to appear stung on the beach
And say