Calimano (feat. SombraPr)

The Devils of Guayama, man, we run this show
And if you don’t believe us, step into the Calimano
From block to block, man, we’re building an empire
We’re gonna take out anyone who gets in our way
Pumping to Philly and the crew’s got your back
We’re hunting them down, and they’re the ones who’ll fall

We’re gonna hunt you down, I’m gonna disguise myself
As a damn nun and Christ will forgive me
I’m gonna stain the cherries, gonna splash your blood
If the cops catch me, man, I won’t snitch
I’m rolling through your hood, blowing up five cars
I’ll get to the lookout, motherfucker, we’ll kidnap him
My Draco’s mini with banana clips
And I’m gonna smoke a Wood with the Pope himself
Rolling with Pabón, with Pri and that bastard 47
Wherever we catch you, we’ll empty the clips
I’m the King of the Fast Ones, lowkey, man, no bluffing
You guys are talking big while we’re bringing the heat

With the Pressure, down low, I’ll grab your dreads and light them up
I’ll piss on the grave of your dead cousin
From state to state, it’s the Kings of the Pump
Every time I roll out and hit them, they all look bad
I’m on Pressure, call Chito, they won’t find the bodies
I got my boys on speed dial, they’ll kidnap you
I got twenty grand on my head, place your bets
I’m sending you two hundred and I’m not counting the response clip

I’m gonna wipe your face, I’m gonna rip your ski mask
At least seven clips on me in the tummy
I’m gonna wipe your face, I’m gonna rip your ski mask
With the Zastava, I’ll light you up from the belly button up
In the Zuma with Colo, Percos, I’m losing control
I roll with the devils, punk, I’m not alone
The blood on your shirt won’t come out even with Clorox
Not even forensics can recognize your face when I blow you up

Yo, tell me, Pri
Talk to Pabón, yeah
From Doble L to Calimano
This is Pressure, motherfucker
Yo, tell me, Panza
Tell me, Father
The Kings of the Pump
Tell them I’m gonna slam these bastards to the ground when I catch them with the .26
Sombra, ta-ja