Hunter

He was always a posh boy, since he was a kid
We all know he copied Raulito's braids
The most entertaining thing about that Choli was the little kiss
Hopefully this year he'll manage to rise on his own

Every day is wake and bake
With the Vans and the skateboard (uh)
Yesterday another Vogue cover (bitch)
Louis V (Rick Owens; ah)
We give it to the fakes (fake)
Boti, you're a corn flake
We take the guys from the bunker for a walk with my hunters
Come on, snore

You're screwed, John Wick with his dogs is looking for you
I heard that the tour you announced isn't selling out
My bank account is overweight, shutting mouths like James Harden
Hopefully my people never fail in the heat
When I catch you, you'll be recorded

Open season for the wounded
The girls love how Rauw dances
True to the slap I have aimed at you
Keep writing to others to make money
Nothing borrowed, everything's paid here
I say it and I also do it

The babes say that I am the real deal
They all want to hook up in my room
Light up a Phillie because today I killed them
These bastards without balls have me
I did what I had to do
We let it fall on the big mouth

Every day is wake and bake
With the Vans and the skateboard (Uh)
Yesterday another Vogue cover (Bitch)
Louis V (Rick Owens ah)
We give it to the fakes
Boti, you're a corn flake
We take the guys from the bunker for a walk with my hunters
Come on, snore

Man of the year, call GQ to portray me
You don't hit, you're a bat carrier (Yah!)
Not even using cork can you hit it out of the park (Rauw)
He can't do it alone, someone carry him (Haha)
A psychiatrist for him to unload, hey

We have you in the target
The sharks got out of the tank (Wuh!)
The one who writes should explain the pond
105 sold out in six months (Wuh!)
Baby, let's do it before the show starts (Uh-wuh!)
The more they suck me, the more I grow (Ih-ih!)
You would drown even if you were fish (Yah!)
You saw me and raised the white flag (Ra-Rauw)

When I play, you don't leave the bench (Trili)
You don't win even with cheating
Everyone in the DR knows I'm the boss (Boss)
Rolling Stones, top three from the heart
A ribbon in the RIAA, I don't see you in my zone

If you're the toughest, then (Feka)
Why don't you say who wrote the verse for 911? (It was Mora)
My baby and I are like JAY-Z and Beyoncé (Hey)
Where we sing, nobody knows you (Hahaha; oh, bless)
Legal with the carrying, but for the mission, one without papers (Cu-cu-cu-cu-cu)
Everyone on Twitter was talking about the crap show you have (Charro)
Aphrodisiac, VICE VERSA still on the charts (Gang!)
Your album was used as a frisbee, no one has listened to it again

The babes say that I am the real deal (I am)
They all want to hook up in my room (Chin—; uh-wuh!)
Light up a Phillie because today I killed them (I killed them)
These bastards without balls have me (Yeah-yeah-yeah)
I did what I had to do
We let it fall on the big mouth (Ah!)

Every day is wake and bake (Bake)
With the Vans and the skateboard (Uh)
Yesterday another Vogue cover (Bitch)
Louis V (Rick Owens; ah)
We give it to the fakes (Fake)
Boti, you're a corn flake
We take the guys from the bunker for a walk with my hunters
Come on, snore (Fool)

Rauw, how does it feel to have VICE VERSA twenty weeks in a row on the charts?
How does it feel to have discovered who was using [the lyrics?] of others?
How does it feel to have sold out four consecutive Choliseos?
How does it feel to be the current number one artist?
A sex symbol, a sex symbol
Rauw, Rauw, Rauw, Rauw, what do you think about his diss track?
Haha, well, what can I say? I lit up a little Phillie and wrote this in about half an hour. The one behind all this is called El Zorro, follow him on Instagram: @akaelzorro. He composes almost everything, produces and directs all his projects. Oh, well, sometimes we collaborate with other ideas, of course. If I want all my people to eat, you understand me? Greetings to Los Sensei, we are more than fifteen and we all have more money than you. Um, we're on vacation, we finished the tour of over a hundred shows, we've had a very busy, hectic schedule. It's Christmas and I want to give a little bit of exposure to the kid, you know that's what his career is made of. They call him the ad salesman, aka the genre sucker, haha. We don't have to mention anyone's woman, she's not to blame for being with a scoundrel. And, well, we wish you well too. Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year, here comes Trap Cake to break it. We're here and we're not hiding, let me know to see each other