La Purga 2 RIP COSCULLUELA

This is not a test
This is an emergency broadcast system announcing the start of the annual purge
The use of class four weapons and lower is authorized during the purge
When the siren sounds, all crimes, including murder, will be legal for twelve continuous hours
Blessed be the new fathers of the homeland and our country, a reborn nation
May God be with you
Mm, let’s go (ha ha ha)
Stop right there, stop right there, motherfucker (ha ha ha)
Give me the rifle, give me the rifle, give me the rifle here
Here, here, here, here
Give me to work it, son of a bitch
Mera, Santa!
Yeah, yeah, yeah, motherfucker, motherfucker, yeah
You almost got me
Come on, come on, come on, motherfucker, come on
Yeah, yeah, yeah, you hit him
Give me another clip, give me another clip
Here’s the other one, switch it, switch it
I’m gonna get down to see if this son of a bitch is dead
Come on, let’s check, let’s check
Let’s check if this motherfucker is still alive
Come on, come on, come on, let’s go, let’s go (this motherfucker)
Come on, go check that corner
Let me check, let me check, let me check here
Damn, motherfucker, you erased Jaime’s face
You hit him all in the face
Mera, there’s a live one here
Give me the rifle, give me the rifle here, motherfucker
Here, here, here
You go, you go
Give me, give me the Draco, give me here
Here, here
Mera, L3tra, wait, I think Santa is alive
Are you crazy? I saw him when he fell
Dude, look at him in the sleigh, he’s there lying down, he’s hurt
Ah, well wait, don’t kill him, don’t kill him, motherfucker, turn him
I’m gonna read him a letter before I lay him down
Breathe
Listen to me, Noel
Breathe

Santa, I’m sorry for all the shots you took
I apologize, even though I don’t know if you heard me
I know you didn’t see the bullets and fell in the swarm
When I hear about a war, I think of the Hunger Games
Hit the thimble and start to tear
Crawl, but ugly, listen to me, I’m gonna express myself
Dude, turn them Zachiel, he’s gonna drown in all that blood
He repents and forgives the soul so God can save it
What does this weakling say? Shh, lower your voice
If this one doesn’t spit out the mouthful, I can’t hear him
I don’t understand what he’s saying between stutters
What the fuck is this guy talking about? I heard something about backing
And he doesn’t have in Puerto Rico
Jenni already gave me your info, she fulfilled my wish
I have your papers, Cosculluela, tell me, should I read them?
You nailed it, you hit Leo
And if I leak the video, there won’t be a plumber to fix the likes
I’m death and war in the same edition
I carry the curse of my damn episodes of depression
And I don’t give a fuck, if I fall again, I cry again
Even if the fire melts a carat, it’s still gold
And if I twist and from heaven they take my verses
With less effort, I turn on the Autotune and jump them in the choruses
They don’t shine because I stand out, the counterweight I distribute
They’re not horsepower, the torque is from asphalt bulls
Listen, little Trojan horse
Don’t mention people, it’ll compromise you
You’re getting yourself tangled
Those who are underwater always swim by the shore
Because they know my sharks are all around the buoys
How are you gonna front on ranks to me, who’s the headliner?
The best of all this new blood, the number one punchliner
Why you pulling claws?
If there’s not a single punchline in your bars since Kendo isn’t your ghostwriter anymore
It’s not having it, it’s holding it, the first round started
And I already have Coscu’s dumbass without stamina in the ropes (ah, what?)
I don’t believe in anyone’s legacy, all that is shit to me
Ironically, another white boy is applying it to you (what?)
Listen to me, ungrateful bastard, I’m gonna send the straight to 104 (amen)
And as you asked, right down the middle (right down the middle, motherfucker)
After this, we’ll share the story
How does it feel to be dragged by this rookie?
I’m the epicenter inside the center of all corners (ha)
The thorn of all of you, Shaquille in the curtain
Two steps and you climb walls, Bebo, look, Peter Parker
L3tra, that’s not Peter, that’s Coscu with a ski mask (ha ha, ah)
Which one you talking about? The star? The one Gina breaks the ass of? (What?)
You crashed with The Mole, the fans shout: Ole
And I’m kicking your face, like Mbappé kicking goals
You crashed with The Mole, the fans shout: Ole
I’m kicking your face, Mbappé kicking the goals
Says he’s the animal, the end, no problem ready (no, dude)
They think they’re tough, until they remember I exist
You should be embarrassed for all the years you spent making The Prince II
It was a flop, that’s a shit album
A man doesn’t lose his ethics, and you lost it
When you started dressing in replica clothes
You’ve been at it for ten years and haven’t changed the metric, still the same
So much you talked about Yampi, and Beatllionare doesn’t change the rhythm
The poison was from Ponce to Cataño
That Santa I miss, giving suffering wrapped in damage
Your cakes unpaid, food unpaid, decorations unpaid
Brother, don’t be so cheap (cheap, dude)
What sadness weighs more than that, than a crying child
That’s your son and you didn’t even show up on his birthday
Years pass and sometimes, when that child grows
And wonders who’s that coming to scold him
Nowadays, come sit with me, let’s talk Peter Leroi
You broke, you tried, I’ll give it to you
Now I’m going to the pension function that grandma pays
Motherfucker, you’re just a mama’s boy
You could be in Palmas or in Trujillo
And we’re gonna get you like in Troy
I’m undefeated like— if you were writing, you would’ve already rhymed with Floyd
They call me The Fire Horse
And in P fucking R, I run it like in Detroit
You hold the climate change and when you’re on stage
Focus on not making a pantomime with your hands
I observed your last show, and you know I noticed
That lately in the shows you don’t sing, now you dance ballet
In my wave you don’t surf, I feel like Ric Flair
And they’re gonna charge your teeth when Vicente sees you (tell me, Vi)
So much you defended while alive, pig song
And after you died, you stabbed Correa’s lady
Worm, listen
There’s something else we have pending (you know)
In the live with my son, you tried to hook the bridge
It was evident with your own papers as a confidant
You posted it without thinking, and that? Tell me, an accident?
How do you lower that dry?
When you saw the prosecutor and Jay Fonseca on a show discrediting you (you’re crazy)
But this is to help you with the people
People, shout: Cosculluela is innocent!
This rhythm pre— this rhythm ignites like a saw
Close everything that’s plural, I’m a supernatural
The one who never misses when rapping
How long is it gonna last? Who’s gonna doubt?
That I’m gonna give, da-da-da-dar, until you understand that the Earth is flat (what?)
And in that realism, my pulse pushing terrorism
Here none is worthy, soon we’re gonna leave
But while the door closes
I keep sounding in all these rhythms, like the Predator in war
And in wing 65, since 25
All who pull go to Valhalla, you can see their soul
The bullet falls
I’m the viking who with the hit, took down Kimbo’s legend
Double glocks, they’re Akimbo (what?)
These crutches rifles, I mount them on my back, and pa-pa-they look like fins
I can’t tell, but I’m crazy for you to commit
I’ll find you, I won’t give up, but you said: L3tra
And I said: Bingo (what?)
Now we go with royalty and the little story of the mill
The prince, the princess took the castle (oh, yeah)
Now the view is the dam and women in ground beef
Of course you feel Jordan, you’ve been given like six rings back
Let’s talk about the spiritual, I’m gonna place you
You keep talking about God, but tell me which one?
Because what’s gonna speak is the testimony
Envying friends, destroying marriages
You and your insane love that falls apart
The worst of all this part was the divorce
Divorcing from the ink of the demon
Don’t let Coscucaracha get lost, the insects, do you remember?
For the reds, the papers say live or die in the cell
And with the whites don’t cover yourself, they’re two escape valves like Griselda
And do you remember you saying: The 25 are zero to the left?
The same that’s gonna hang you by the neck with the rope, ah (what?)
You-You-You-You-You know you hide when I come out
And these bars I transport in Wells Fargo trucks
Shoot me, do something
The value of what I’m worth comes from the heart I have in my chest
And not in the one I carry on my neck
And I have a buddy, motherfucker, who wants to tell you something
Coscu, you’re broke
Double gave life and the motherfucker turned on him
And now he’s scared
The supercriminal’s movie fell apart
Suck a dick, motherfucker, L3tra already applied it to you (tell me, Izaak)
You don’t invoice more than I do
Don’t bump into the horns, motherfucker
(Take care not to break your horns with the door)
(Hey, you tell me, Custom)
(What?)
(Should I continue?)
My-My-My panthers are all with the Black Cat
If you know where I’m from, you know the R is dragging
I go straight, hold on to what’s coming behind
They say: You lost your humility
If I have the genre hooked like a backpack, ah (what happened, motherfucker?)
That one couldn’t, and you won’t be able to either
In the Travis Cactus on your feet, Cactus
You already sunk them all, and now you’re going, uh (now you’re going)
Better let the current flow-ya-ya
No matter how much you want, you won’t be able to stick the cactus, huh

Three L3tra, The L
We are the supernatural, motherfucker
Letra's Entertainment, baby
(What happened, motherfucker?)
Tell me, Bebo
If it’s with Double, it’s millions by law
(Whoever thinks otherwise, let them throw down)
Zachiel, Custom
We’re customizing a couple of motherfuckers today (hehehe)
Mera, motherfucker (what happened, motherfucker?), listen
You think I’m fighting with the toughest?
You’re fighting with the toughest, so you understand (The L)
And since you like to throw in some Spanglish, in the motherfuckin'
Mere, motherfucker
Pick the niggas up, you’re a bitch, nigga
Prr, what?
Tell me, Vi
This nigga got a death wish or something like that
Who’s next?
What?