El juego del Rap

In the right corner, in blue shorts, 183 pounds, in the rap game, my man Nach

[Nach]
I'm hooked on releasing albums like someone hooked on bingo
rhythm addict, I stand out, I practice pinball
with words, I finish them off perfectly,
I don't pretend, I'm like an Olympic symbol,
I pay homage to the game, I give myself and sweat,
Rap is all-inclusive and anything goes except staying silent,
So come defend me, acrobat
you can't mark me even with a penalty kick
You'll be on the bench, the yellow jersey is only for champions,
There's no tie, you move your pawns wrong, checkmate,
You think about retiring, my dribble leaves you on Mars,
I nutmeg art and your shadow,
The second half begins and I come out strong like in Ong Bak
You jump rope on your own Compaq,
I compose combos that cause 'shocks',
I'm Tony Hawk's on the block, the team's crack as always
In a doubles match Zpu and Nach crush in every match,
Your fake hits like in 'pressing catch',
I break the rules when I arrive,
the control I display in the game,
Only comparable to Steve Nash,
Remember this sport is not suitable for the faint-hearted or maniacs,
Here we use phrases like lunchacos,
Remember you're facing the most agile in this shit,
When you lose you'll want to bungee jump but without ropes.

In the left corner, in red shorts, 174 pounds, my man Zpu

[Zpu]
Mc's call mayday when I do this,
Superior aspect like Dwyane Wayde in basketball,
Everything I score is part of my plot,
Every time I spit I jump two like a dartboard lady,
Rap is the pool of my long strokes champion,
Burdened because I download like in a marathon,
I'm a cyclone and you're a boxing sparring partner,
Your diction in pictionary is just babbling,
I dive, I go down to the depths, I make tangles,
Fitness with my fingers, business in the arena I'm a jockey,
If I connect your K.O. is my O.K
I'm your fear in fights in this hockey game,
Super, balls from my snooker when they clash,
Joker of this poker the answer to your trivia,
They envy the most experienced players,
See that they have in their blood that touch of the masters,
Right-handed, without cape or sword fists like Ali, you to me,
You won't catch me in this rally I sound Warm,
And tense like a bow, sparing in words,
Steering in my boat more than anything God applauds from the stands,
From Ascot the purest,
there are no faster Formula Ones I'm the sumo,
Priest they'll kiss the canvas in this round,
When Nach passes the ball it can only be 'touch-down'.