Pequeñas Dosis

Ah!
You are not prepared
I bring my poison in small doses

Oh! I bring you my poison in small doses
You are not prepared for so much info
I walk on a rhythm in metamorphosis
It's no longer a rhythm, it's Olympus

The end of polytheism, the cataclysm
Throwing gods into the abyss, except myself
God of rhyme at the top
Nothing above me, I'm way up high
I create and believe the bad weather among the rappers
Debates, they don't know
They are just victims of the chaos that K originates
I have the listeners drugged
Hanging on my morphine, which is fine
I throw bombs at your pineal gland
Connect concepts in your hypothalamus
Ways to measure non-linear time
In each verse it's as if we were flying
Like the honey from the trunks of the Elms
I look at my skin and bleed through the pores
Dry blood is just iodine, dust
Mixed with my tears: mud, mud
Decisions of high rank, high office
Conscious reviews, bitter swallow
The verse offers sweetness, soothes acidic pains
Salt in the wound, finally peace in my mind

I bring you my poison in small doses
You are not prepared for so much info
I walk on a rhythm in metamorphosis
It's no longer a rhythm, it's Olympus

Not Dadaism, not Nihilism
Expressionism, perfectionism
Being myself, something very difficult
Not so much if I visualize it
I slide through streets without coordinates and normalize it
My good side is my schizo side
As strong as I am, knowing what I am
Only one thing keeps me awake today
The excellent, exquisite, slender pirouette of rhyme
To fall on you like a flowerpot
And split your head in two, jump on top: Kriss Kross
You're amazed by Big Boss's paragraphs
In the rap game mixing a charles between tears
Nervous breakdowns over a delay, hey!
Everything is in its place, no mistakes
Still Diggin' In The Crates
What don't you understand about the explanatory science of this young conversationalist?
I take sulfur and mercury to the studio
Mirror, mirror on the wall, who's the best?
While flying brooms dance around me
It's extremely easy
Your ugly flows against my evolution, bastard, sound like babbling
There's no improvement because theory is missing
Don't want to study? Rap is not a lottery
Keep that drop of cold sweat in a chest
Remember the day you met your teacher
Remember the first time I gave you my drug
Now you want me every day at all hours

I bring you my poison in small doses
You are not prepared for so much info
I walk on a rhythm in metamorphosis
It's no longer a rhythm, it's Olympus

I bring you my poison in small doses
You are not prepared for so much info
I walk on a rhythm in metamorphosis
Tell them Rumba

[R de Rumba]
(Oh yes this is the dose, exactly!)
(Son of funk)
(The mad scientist)
(Come and taste me, I'll show you my poison)
(Son of funk)
(The mad scientist)
(End of mediocrity, the crazy astronomer returns)
(Son of funk)
(The mad scientist)
(Come and taste me, I'll show you my poison)
(Son of funk)
(The mad scientist)

(Oh yes this is the dose, exactly!)
(Son of funk)
(The mad scientist)
(Come and taste me, I'll show you my poison)
(Son of funk)
(The mad scientist)
(End of mediocrity, the crazy astronomer returns)
(Son of funk)
(The mad scientist)
(Come and taste me, I'll show you my poison)
(Son of funk)
(The mad scientist)