Al Estilo Guerrero

Blessings from his father who watches over him from heaven
And his children, not to mention, are the spitting image of the old man

There are actions that I carry in my memory well engraved
'92 was the war and I fainted while fighting
They knew it wasn't a game to mess with the blond one
And the super bathed in gold was part of his attire

Double armored wheels were seen in the trails
At the blond one's command, palm trees and the planes ready
To my fallen soldiers, of course they are remembered
My buddy Chapo Guzmán, how I miss the pearl
They talked about a violent man who commanded in Sinaloa
With friends of the stature of Mr. Mayo Zambada

The pain I carry in my chest, they paid dearly for it
They broke the golden rule that existed within the narco
In his ranch there in La Noria, he spent his time peacefully
Always dressed elegantly when he danced the Spanish
How the bills rolled, supporting his people
Throughout all of Mexico, the old man was respected

In 2007, he was extradited, fell into the hands of the DEA
They already knew he was the one and they took on the task
An incomparable style, the blond one Palma
A little black cap and a long-sleeved shirt
Although it was the same clique, the details always come out
El Colo was by my side, checking that nothing fails

My family comes first, that has never been in doubt
And if I lost the feeling but I keep my life
In the gardens of Humaya, two candles are lit
They are for my little angels, they rest there now!
I know many have seen me on national television
The questions remain open, suddenly they will return!