Maestros De Ceremonia (con nona)

I think your money wants to talk to me, buddy.
I think your money wants to get into my business.
Your guys are counterattacking on the street, I hope they miss, their fears carved in my pockets. Listen, hear them, shut up, be in the rap game. I just say clack-clack and make them blow up, so they can't find me. I'm always in a hurry, never slowing down, everyone asks where I'm from.

I got, I got rags; I got dirty deals; I got, I got respect. Too many plans lurking, I keep my rage in check. Close the doors and windows, you know I'm coming. I plan to give you cream, kid; I plan for my stuff to taste good to you; I plan to be the mic of my instrument. You know who I am today, with cash in my pockets, so I'm outta here.

Look how I give, I attract the B-Boy, and it's easy to talk when I'm not around. Hear how I spit in your ears, hear how the bass goes with the beat of your heart. I've seen your teeth, but you've never bitten me. I know there's no danger when I hear the barking. If you're acting tough, look kid, today I’m taking the piece. Shoot whoever shoots, I won't back down, 'cause I'm the queen for that, right, Nacho?

Whoever comes here to me, for the glory, already has me. Here, in the memory. I'm leaving here, finally with victory. Masters till the end. Oh yeah, of ceremony. Whoever comes here to me, for the glory, already has me. Here, in the memory. I'm leaving here, finally with victory. Masters till the end. Oh yeah, of ceremony.

Listen closely to this. It's much more, kid, more than you expected. No limits in this shit, no limits.

It's the N, the S, double H, rap without cease; Apache Indian DNA. And don’t expect me to bow down, kid, when the left-handed genius comes. Mediocre MCs that don’t entertain, they stop. I'm the water that breaks the dam. It's my surprise attack, English discipline rap. Shit that tastes like strawberries, kid.
My Jewish DNA keeps me going, kid. And Nona has the poison to inject into your temples.

Pore by pore, I bathe in gold; from pole to pole, I prepare sound treasures with my mic for the globe, and that way I control the crowd with my styles, crazy. My Puerto Rican follows the parrot, while I whip your zero, crazy. Comedic B-Boys, there are many of you, but you mean little. I hit your head like rocks, tequila straight, I provoke an alcoholic coma. Prodigy in the metaphorical art; I solve hieroglyphics from peripheral environments.

My merits, the secret of my success, many don’t give credit to my skilled habits. If this doesn’t belong to you, disappear, and leave, your jumps aren’t forgiven in my zone. I’ll make you kiss the canvas. Kings with false crowns, 'cause I’m the boss for that, right Nona?

Whoever comes here to me, for the glory, already has me. Here, in the memory. I'm leaving here, finally with victory. Masters till the end. Oh yeah, of ceremony. Whoever comes here to me, for the glory, already has me. Here, in the memory. I'm leaving here, finally with victory. Masters till the end. Oh yeah, of ceremony.

The poetic is genetic, it doesn’t allow clones. My prophetic sound is unique capturing the audience. Tell me. You’ll feel sublime art when I rhyme. You’ll see that my voice and the mic are like alcohol with barbiturates.
The crime. Masters of ceremony bring the shit you live. Try it, come, take a strong hit and then tell me. Breathe deep, let the smoke out and now tell me. I don’t expect you to hype me up, watch your words, tough guy, I’ll pull your brothers. 'Cause all your people bow down to me, kiss my ass.

Yeah. Sure, offer them, pure cyanide and let them.
Naked styles shield, I’ll pull you babies. I alter mental states like LSD. Staining my RAP is like activating TNT. What? Look, come over here. Give me more, I got more, 'cause I know fame is waiting for me, I got more to give. You’ll see. In the form of a legend, I’m crossing the border. Crossing the whole land, escaping from radars and antennas. Being your gangrene, drying your veins, escaping from your fingers like sand. You know, no one like you. No, no one like you sounds. What, what.

Whoever comes here to me, for the glory, already has me. Here, in the memory. I'm leaving here, finally with victory. Masters till the end. Oh yeah, of ceremony. Whoever comes here to me, for the glory, already has me. Here, in the memory. I'm leaving here, finally with victory. Masters till the end. Oh yeah, of ceremony.