Zonas Marginales 2.0 (feat. La Cebolla, Haze, Manuel El Popeye, Poetas Sureños y Mancloy)

Marginal zones where evil reigns
Where the devil is always lurking on every corner
Where you always crave something more than this cold world
The street in our blood, since we were kids

This ain't the crap rap that talks about nothing
This talks about harsh reality
This is about survival
We grew up surrounded by poverty, drugs, and crime
Running away from the police, living stressed
Dreaming that one day
We leave the neighborhood with a decent job
Stop thinking we'll die behind bars

When the street speaks, it tells the truth
Life situations we have to face
We try to escape from a marginal world
Where the snitches are the first to talk
Gangsters trafficking, robbing, getting locked up
They're buried from overdoses
I can see their mothers crying
Cursing the devil and praying for them

I grew up in a square
Where they hate those with a badge
Where the devil plays with jail
Plays with drugs and easily kills you

And I regret nothing
I was born poor, born without money
What you should be ashamed of
Is being a snitch

Hot neighborhoods of Seville in connection
With Cadiz with La Linea de la Concepcion
Marginal zones, action zones
We talk about reality, no fiction here

In a neighborhood of purity, the image of the purest
My father in the three thousand drawn on a wall
That already tells you who I am, where I come from
What I represent, without singing flamenco

Cousin, I'm a gypsy, I carry it inside
I am who I am, I don't pretend or try
I'm a rapper from the working-class neighborhoods
Full of hustlers, full of warriors

Full of those who lead a hard life
Who have to commit crimes or live off aid
People who work for a few coins
Simply dreaming of having papers

We're back in the game, the troop again
Yours is pure chalk, ours is rock cocaine
Always talking about the same thing, damn, you annoy me
Now listen to the real street and shut up
Here in the three thousand we live in ignorance
Many shootings, they're abundant
We have few resources
To get out of this suburb we grow up in

We grow up unstable with insecurity
Here where we live, evil prevails
We are within the social exclusion bubble
Freaked out by the cops and their next raid
Every day smoking, thinking on the street
How to make money without ending up stealing
Living in the three thousand, it's more than a challenge
Life is never easy living in the ghetto

R r, sounds here in the periphery
Police in danger, things are serious here
We've seen that and more in this cold world
The street is our blood
Since we were kids

We're the bad rappers, if I rap badly
Never say it because I can hit you
In the neighborhood there are snitches with badges and without
Innate talent, I'm a star
Some ask God for divine calling
Others say to God, they look for cocaine
Some sell drugs to be millionaires
But few have the necessary wit
Many times I've heard 'kill him,' and not in the movies
I'm the rapper of the birds, I wear boots
Angels have saved me
Thank God, I've barely set foot in jails
Take my hand, I'll help you get out
Yes, don't be afraid, you'll survive
Dry those tears, you don't walk alone
Lift your head because I believe in you