Calle, Calidad y Conga

From a young age, you can see the hustle here
From that gate over there comes the beat, and goodbye
You want some flavor, mom? We got plenty, and more
Kids who are more trap than that ghostly sound
Unintentionally, I made it through the rough
I walked around and saw everything, but the lock, nothing
I saw trends, cash, and gold in those hustlers, hustlers
I led, idol of the bad boys, bad boys

The honest weight of hard work
The cash from the one who pulls the cart
The one who bites the bone with the hustle
The one who stands tall and makes a bank
The one who turned two bucks into a future
The one who bites hard in white gloves

Everyone's saving cheese for that jerk
The one who doesn't give change and sells by the gram
Guns, drugs, bullets, daggers, I saw dramas
Crows, robes, plagues, rats, scumbag fools

Homies, pals, crew, gang, running wild
Ghetto, hustle, court, crew, block, corner
Here comes the beat from the party, and you got no
Turning back, cut the shirt, you gotta understand

That here you cross the canvas of the shack and dive
Into the trap of the trap, where the crew is seen
Here comes the beat from the party, and you got no
Turning back, cut the shirt, you gotta understand

And in that flash with the beat came the rap
Buddy, another conga, just like that
A beat, yeah, and saying a thousand circumstances
Lyrics, metrics, skill, and to the death, boom bap

Like Wu-Tang in the Thirty-Six Chambers
With a lot of hunger, raw like Tupac, super underground
With slang dropping on a sampled beat
Like Eazy-E, the father of N.W.A., gangster
Like the king, Ghostface, in Staten Island
Like Daniel, a stone flower, but no dancing

The same tricks, from the same roots
Just like on the corner and with the baggy clothes
From vinyl to cassette, from cassette to CD
From CD to pen drive, from pen drive to MD and Gmail
If you want, call it trap or now RKT
But the street says rap, R.A.P

The street is in the lyrics, if you're a slacker
Spark and metrics, if you're tough
Rap is for the real deal and by degree
By rank, and by knockout

The street is in the lyrics, if you're a slacker
Spark and metrics, if you're tough
Rap is for the real deal and by degree
By rank, and by knockout

And the one who's real, only the real one
Knows how to move the carousel, to make a living
The one who comes and goes, like they got the vibe
Will have for the sweet, and also the bread
All that salt goes away dancing, move it
Maybe tomorrow we won't be here, I don't know

Sorrow, dramas, pairs, faith, debts, karma, streaks, gone
Legs, gambas, souls, that arrive, mark, save, good
Throw it in the oil now, let the hustle heat up and explode, wolf
Batches of 20 and ladies, well done, ma'am, that style steals
The block is ours, let's keep going until we drop

The boat of the robocop ain't gonna sink here
Sing it out, those broken hearts know well
They passed, I got left behind, they passed a long time ago
All that salt goes away dancing, move it
Maybe tomorrow we won't be here, I don't know

Sorrow, dramas, pairs, faith, debts, karma, streaks, gone
Legs, gambas, souls, that arrive, mark, save, good
All that salt goes away dancing, move it
Maybe tomorrow we won't be here, I don't know