Duros, Blandos y Flojos

Hard with the Motorola
Hard like being on the street
And stuck in the times of the BlackBerry
Hard like a getaway on a motorbike
Hard like doing business inside a car
Hard like having to escape from the police
And catching a cold because of the rain
Getaway that ends up in the mountains
Clothes stained and covered in mud

Hard like having only arms
To search the streets only for food
And hard like those who work eight-hour shifts
With a salary that's worth nothing
And hard because they endure and stay silent
And because it never crosses their mind to ask anyone
And hard because they go through their day
For a life that has been hardly assured

Hard like having a friend
Who gets deported for a simple crime
And hard to be accused to your face
And not even have money to pay for a lawyer
And hard without money, justice eats you up
And it eats you up, but without meaning
It would be hard like my friend, Coleta
Who is always locked up, they have him locked up

Hard like causes you haven't committed
Hard like keeping a roof over your head
Hard for those who work in the strait
Bad cold that hits you in the chest
Hard like the daily search
And hard because you don't want more police stations
Hard because they said you would be released
And the next day you're imprisoned with no way out

And hard all the bad things I've been through
And still I would never tell it all
And hard I always keep it quiet
Helping those who would least expect it
And hard with the hunger of childhood
And hard like knowing your upbringing
And hard because I live with hope
Even if I don't have enough for food

And we're hard because despite everything
We've lived through, we keep moving forward
And hard what they did to millions in the streets
And they're out there without making a fuss
And hard despite the bad things I've experienced
One thing is certain, I'll sing it out
And hard, I don't talk behind my people's backs
And what I say hard, I always say it to their face

And loose because those who claim to have chains
Think they'll go far with that
And loose because they know that when you turn
Thirty, only the reflexes remain
And hard those who take care of their family
And hard those who love their children
And hard those who take care of their family
Will go far, they say

And soft like those who opened their mouths
Whenever they had minimal police contact
Soft like those who testified at the police station
When you know nothing is ever said there
Soft like those who have a clique
A clique that stands for something, and I swear it wasn't
Anything
And soft, they are soft
They are soft, they are hard only in a group

And hard those who stay silent and face it
And whatever comes, let it come
And hard because we know we won't change no matter what
Loose because they can't portray the realities lived here
Loose because at the slightest touch they quickly show it, says

Hard my friend who spent months locked up and never said a word
Hard because I always visited him unexpectedly
And hard because now he's my brother, sings with me and
Is there for whatever
And hard because he has never let me down, was it true
Fight and struggle

Hey, come on, look, says
Hey, come on, look
And hard, hard, hard, we keep going as always
And M.D.L.R. have been the tough ones who continue their journey
Those who continue on the street for nothing
Hey
Those who take care of their family and children will go far, oh, ah
And the working class
Hey, and the working class
Here your worth is not measured by what's in your wallet
And the, and the working class
Says, and the working class
Here people are not judged by what's in their wallet
And the, and the working class
Says, and the working class
Here people are not judged by what's in their wallet
And the, and the working class
Says, and the working class
Here people are not judged by what's in their wallet
And the working class
And the working class
Here people are not judged by what's in their wallet