Al Pueblo El Que Lo Ve Llorar Soy Yo

Real 70
The Village

You want me to shut up forever
Sorry, buddy, but no
People are already aware
That you all are lying
Your repertoire is out of gas

And now you expect everyone to learn
The same old record, but it didn’t work
I'm the one who sees the people crying

I came to give it hell, okay, to face it
For my people and to steal the show
To explain that anyone can follow the law
With two Mercedes and a house in Ciboney
Give me a break, I need to vent, man
Talk about my Havana, good or bad, 'cause it’s my Havana
Or is it that to talk about where I live
I can only mention the positive

Subversive fits me better, loudmouth
And what suits you is just being a snitch
I’m gonna keep putting my finger in every song
And if you don’t like it, get the hell out, take off your disguise
'Cause this can’t go on, stop the story

Mascarita, your mask is falling off
If you don’t want artists to stay
Don’t deny them respect and pay them what they deserve
I don’t know why the news didn’t cover
The Lisa strike, 'cause the protests
That you don’t organize, you centralize with your slogans
Or you stop them with clubs, abuse, violence, bad times
And the people keep on, obeying like a stray dog
Sits, stands, turns, gets on all fours, and lets you step on them
Even with shit on their shoes

It’s us who pay the broken plates
That’s why in Havana there are a bunch of crazies
And if you’re not one, you’re close to being committed
From this, whoever gets out, Mongo will stay at ten
Loving is all that’s left
Extend your hand, brother
To everyone you can
Let me into the Lucas Awards
To take down the biggest puppet with a bazooka
It sounds

You want me to shut up forever
Sorry, buddy, but no
People are already aware
That you all are lying
Your repertoire is out of gas
And now you expect everyone to learn
The same old record, but it didn’t work
I'm the one who sees the people crying

The politics can go to hell
With our future, I see a huge mess
Stop lying, we’re not a bunch of fools
In that absurd first world, you see the fruits of labor
The ones below suffer while the ones above enjoy

Because for not having a card, they put you in cuffs
Because I ask one thing and they answer something else
How do I know there’s a carnival if I don’t see the floats?
What are you gonna say, that I’m talking nonsense?
Peace for my people, no more traps
Behind the images of the heroes of the past
That in the present, there are some, but they don’t talk about them

How are they gonna talk if when their story grows
They disappear them, look at me
I can’t even sing sometimes.