Yemen

I panic at my own ego
Blind to myself I arrive
To the very Olympus
And set fire to the damn mountain
Home of ridiculous gods
My name rises among smoke and ashes
It shines on the horizon
Hands up and no one moves
It's an MC spending saliva, no wonder I'm dismembered
No wonder when the sheikh arrives they let loose
Even transvestites and hypocrites
They hate me, but they fear me
When my semen happens
Exotic plants sprout from the rhythm
And two Nordic birds decide to nest
In this orchard, Eden emerging from Yemen
Are you thirsty for my chronicles? Then drink from this tea
Of aromatic words that I collected
If my notebook were a dessert, it would be a puff pastry
Of figs, walnuts, and honey, a crepe of ice for you, unfaithful
You denied me three times like Peter to Jesus
Now you return to the master and although you don't deserve me
I kneel and wash your feet
I offer you bread with oil
All for your painful sonorous delight, co

It hurts you, it, it, it hurts you
It hurts you, but it, it hurts you so good
It hurts you, it, it, it hurts you
It hurts you, but it, it hurts you so good

How about some raspberry kites?
And you said: Yes, but instead of thread, licorice
I am the new Willy Wonka
Come children to me, but don't look for trouble with my style
I am the Sun that lights up streets when the sky is gray
I read the future of MCs in the foam of my piss
End of mediocrity, the crazy astronomer returns
I am an alchemist, I turn lead into gold
Like a bloody rattlesnake, at midnight
A thought wakes me up from which thousands come out
And from these thousands remain a hundred, ten, two
A single verse wins this atrocious battle
My visions filled files at NASA
Chinese scientists stood at my house
They ask for the UFO tamer
How do you do it?
Through astrolanguage, that's my strange baggage
Don't you feel that when you hear authentic shit
You feel your artificial, and simple metric?
You doubted my strengths and you got a good smack
How do you feel about eating shit?
While you release those weak rhymes, what are you complaining about?
Have you stopped to review your sheets? What do you reflect?
What I think is that you are lost, you are screwed
You haven't measured what you've gotten into in a tremendous mess
This rap thing, co, better listen to Kase. O
With Lírico and Hate makes a tremendous trio
In Zaragoza it's not cool, it's rather cold
Like the pool of a river in summer my style is dude
I aspire to the papacy, so I ask you to call me Pío
But what the hell am I saying? If I with vigor
I shit on that fucking bishop of Lucifer, somber servant
Son of a bitch, you can handle kids now!
Various delusions, I don't skimp on scorn
With what right do these demons speak of God?
There are also good priests, there are also complete beings
The few enjoy little promotion, ascetics
On this planet of idiots
I am a poet and I travel more than your astronauts
I am a poet and I never respected your guidelines
How many nights did I spend in front of the paper
Designing keys for your cages?
And if pleasure were only the absence of pain
And if pain were erased like stains
If there were dyes for the heart
There wouldn't be a reason to rhyme until the wee hours
Yes

It hurts me, it, it, it hurts me
It hurts me, but it, it hurts me so good
It hurts me, it, it, it hurts me
It hurts me, but it, it hurts me so good

It hurts me, it, it, it hurts me
It hurts me, but it, it hurts me so good
It hurts me, it, it, it hurts me
It hurts me, but it, it hurts me so good