Modales (feat. Replik)

[Raggio]
Eyou, dad
You know who's around here
The God of rap, and the father of the free for you
I come with Replik and golden fingers on the beat
Space dealer, with codes only suitable for G's
If I come out of this alive, don't mourn me when I die
With a card up each sleeve, cousin, I'm for real
They're going to turn me into marble so you can pray to me
You don't want to see you in paint, if that paints you like Dalí
The one who runs here is because he's hiding something that can handle him
And if life confronts him, he knows he's going to lose
That's why he runs from the holes because he has no hell
And you don't realize how deep it is until your skin feels it
Polo the coconut all my Puma and Ellesse cape
If I dress in GRMY it's because I also show off
I sweat your tastes of hicks without hell
So sit at the table, there's dick to eat
Brother, I'm going for gold because silver is shit
The podium is glory for the one who fights with everything just for himself
You all share the whole cake, but I have the honey
And there's no mouth that swallows pure sugar at this level
You lack the crazy mosh pit for this damn duo of 10
From Buenos Aires to the southern coast of Spain, you already know who I am
With a kid face, but he leaves the joint like a homelette
I only go with pure salary, I spend it at the end of the month

So run, motherfucker run, motherfucker run, come on
We are the rap teachers, you lack manners
We don't have fans, we have loyal ones
If they see us arrive, they shout: Come on daddy come on!

Run, motherfucker run, motherfucker run, come on
We are the rap teachers, you lack manners
We don't have fans, we have loyal ones
If they see us arrive, they shout: Come on daddy come on!

[Replik]
To pains, bad suns juxtapose
Perceptions, amplify connections
Flow as they should
With the pollen of colors
Purify emotions
You tell me what my sensory delicacies taste like, come on
Manucho with Raggio, J. Moods
Hamurabbi passion
I enjoy the collapse
Hair to it
Assimilating it when it's inevitable
What am I going to do
I enter another crisis without leaving the first
I search in my ways, I need new skill
I have morning crusts on my eyelashes
I fish piranhas in my bathtub with my fishing rod
Positioning my mouth under the leaks
From the crack of the primordial messenger essence
Of abstract vitality sends parsimonious energy
It wets me with magma showers
I don't read minds, I'm the one who writes them
Where I live only the weakest survive
And the happiest is the one who smiles the least
I was on my knees asking him to forget me

So run, motherfucker run, motherfucker run, come on
We are the rap teachers, you lack manners
We don't have fans, we have loyal ones
If they see us arrive, they shout: Come on daddy come on!

Run, motherfucker run, motherfucker run, come on
We are the rap teachers, you lack manners
We don't have fans, we have loyal ones
If they see us arrive, they shout: Come on daddy come on!