Cura de Humildad

Uh!
Ah, ah

Their gold is brass, cardboard villain
They know who we are and I don't know who they are
Seconds like Aaron Carter, I'm Karl Malone
Why do you need a ghostwriter? If you're already a big shot
One, one, two, I have cons and pros
In hand a bottle and on the neck their gloss

I have Nikes and Lacoste, Beluga and Hugo Boss
Arms in the yoke of the executioner and the boss
If I light one and through the smoke they look like two
If after asking for a favor they all disappear
My eyes at the top of the Mohs scale
And inside theirs trapped all the cosmos

We're just monkeys
And we're locked in the zoo fighting for the throne
Cousin, I don't start beef for promo
Let's go, time is money and I'm Cronos

Calm with a killer sway
With Al Pacino's dark circles and bars of kilo
The streets that saw us walking as kids
Are the same ones that now see me walking with mine
Your cousins are a scam, they sell you they're rich

I feel the same traveling in a cunda as in a limo
The procession is inside, just like the style
The monkey will always be a monkey even if dressed in Moschino
You'll only see diamonds if you look at my future
They talk about making money, but, I don't know, Rick

We don't follow the rules of their game
We just came to break the board like Shaquille
Baby, we're Hendrix's guitar
We're A$AP and Kendrick, Eric and Rakim
Walking through the center with the craziest crew
With the high of Amy thrown on the street

One check, tell me who has more style, ah
If all the sheep I counted, I squirrel
I'm a wolf in crocodile skin
I feel like Tutankhamun, pharaoh of the Nile
Even if it's just Gon and hanging by a thread

Don, you already know who they are
Put on another one, I'll put a kilo
If you didn't love me, don't love me now
I have a sad face and the full moon
The little heart broken and full of sorrow

Because they saw you with someone else and it burns me
You're like coke, there's no good left
I ended up with a crazy blonde and a brunette
I guess this is what it is, baby
That apple poisons me

Usual suspect, the cockiest of the coop
Talent is worth little if you're not going to work
They think they're stars in the photos they upload to Instagram
But they come to my concert and, humility cure
I'd play without pay or losing money
But on top of that, they pay me, I can only be thankful

I have friends who love me, a siren in my bed
And also more money than I need
I have a marked face, bloodied hands
I don't know what adrenaline has that I love
I escape from my ghosts like Pac-Man
I've grown fond of my traumas
I'm always taking off, Diego Armando
With the years more handsome, Benjamin Button
The stadium roars if we go out to the field
And we paint your face like Marilyn Manson