Cosquillita

I'm embarrassed
Having to use my skills
Against an idiot who tattooed hair on his head
A fool who thinks he's cool
Who got an implant on his head
But with ass hair

This Dracula Boy is so stupid
That he reflects in all mirrors
He thinks he's a bat, but he's a tadpole
That's why with one slash, I cut him, without onion and without garlic

Nah, you're not a gangster-gangster
You're the only vampire who wants to be staked
You're a case of psychology, beautiful
An idiot from Colegio San Antonio Abad
Who thinks he's a gangster

A guy with delusions of being a marginalized criminal
Raised on golf courses, with rosy cheeks
A life without mosquito bites
Who the hell in the neighborhood played tennis since childhood?

An idiot without scars
From a family of doctors, architects, and real estate agents
I scout idiots like you, yes
You're from the H, but a snitch

This fool doesn't know what a blackout is
Doesn't know what it's like to bathe with cold gallon water
Doesn't know what it's like to not even have money for gas
Doesn't know what it's like to work for $4.25 without tips
What he didn't live, he imagines

He doesn't know what a pizza is and runs from Trujillo to Carolina
Your credibility, in the street, slips without shampoo
You're from the group that never lost power
Your real group dresses in silk
The Cosculluela, the Pierluisi, the Fortuño, the Fonalleda

Today I hit this cricket so hard
That after this, your family will change their last name
I've earned everything, I'm a tough rooster
Mine was earned through sweat, yours inherited
You got into this beef
Because I'm the power plant that lights up your career

You hid the privileges you always had
To sell that you're from a neighborhood where you never lived
You disguised yourself as someone else, you got on the boat
You should pay royalties to the drug dealers

For stealing an image to try to be a star
The street didn't make you, you took advantage of it
A prince will never be from the people, his highness
Those who work from eight to five don't go with royalty

Here the red patent sleds don't run
In Puerto Rico, it doesn't snow, we grew up under the sun
In salsa, deep in the mountains, in front of the lake in Trujillo
To the idiot from Santa Cos, his Magi King arrives today
With Residente, nobody survives
Even if it's just me against the twenty snot-nosed kids who write for you
I'm not René Pérez
When I write, I'm God, I decide who lives or dies

Decide-decide-decide how many will die
Decide-decide-decide who will live
Decide-decide-decide how many will die
Decide-decide-decide who will live
Decide-decide-decide how many will die
Decide-decide-decide who will live
Decide-decide-decide-decide-decide-decide-decide how many will die

Prrum, if I catch him on the street he says
Prrum, I caught him and he started crying
We put you in the car and I just spoke to you clearly
Even in Miami, I threw a shoe in your face

And I went down to Quintana, the whole neighborhood was with me
I was ready that day to go fist to fist with you
But you were scared with your pants wet
If it weren't for Elías, I would've crossed you already

And with Christian, I went to your recording studio
And you recorded a video asking for forgiveness
I could've ended your career, the final finale
But I didn't want to post anything on social media

Being White Lion, both would be a pathetic move
Now you come and throw at me, don't talk to me about ethics
You're a pig cop addicted to Percs, racist
A worm with fear, a kneeling politician
Your codes smell like bathroom shit
You're friends with the mayor who censored me for four years
Not even Xander Zaya, Juanma López is what you are
A slap-hitter who hits women

And I came to teach your children, my brother
That the blackness in Puertorro comes from the African continent
I came to teach your children
That more ghetto than you, motherfucker, were Maelo and Cortijo
That in the projects there are young people who get up early
To give art workshops, guitar and piano classes

So that a rich asshole from Palmas del Mar
Says that with his gangster money he's coming to kill us
At no cost, daddy, no tricks
Every time you throw at me, I'll educate them
Even if you ask the stars and the astrologers
If you throw at me twenty times, twenty times I'll be their stepfather

I have a problem, I think
And it's that I never back down
When I can, I attack them with my lyrics
Like an owl in a grove, I don't blink
Because I'm looking for fear, but I don't see it

And fear pees on itself with me
With my rhyme, I make summer depressed
I'm JAY-Z with Víctor Jara, I'm the skies of Hiroshima
I'm the sun on your face in the Sahara Desert
I'm too much for you, my bars are steel
What I throw is so heavy that now I write on the walls

Because to be honest
There's no paper that can handle the words my pen releases
Every time I throw on the track strongly
The dentists become millionaires
Thanks to this lyricist who hits like a coup
All these people when I spit on the mic
You spit out your teeth

Decide-decide how many will die
Decide-decide who will live
Decide-decide how many will die
Decide-decide who will live
Decide-decide how many will die
Decide-decide who will live
Decide-decide-decide-decide-decide-decide-decide how many will die

I break you writing, I'm a prodigy
Like Van Damme, I fight even with my eyes blindfolded
He says he's undefeated, the Mayweather of rap
But I'm UFC, there are no boxing rules here

This went by knockout, I left through the wide door
Only someone who lost needs a rematch
José or José, I don't know, but I know
That the word 'turn' you don't know

After this, I don't even answer
Only a millionaire, bored, and unemployed has time for this
Keep praying for me
I'm not an atheist because I believe in the ass-kicking I'm giving you
In Trujillo Alto, people are really hurt
Because you start a war, but from Florida
Meanwhile, I'm here with my people, up on the bridge
My brother, come, so you don't hear about it

With your own bars, your arguments crumble
Even your dad must be rolling in his grave
What are you saying, hummingbird?
That the Cubans outside in Miami can't fight for their country?

Without a doubt
Puerto Rico is so screwed up, asshole, that we fight even if we live on the moon
And have you dedicated any awards to Elías? None
Why? Because you've never won one
I'm not talking about combs, I'm not talking about rifles
The one who's going to do something doesn't tell me
The saints protect me and the water from Lake Carraizo in Trujillo blesses me
I forge the iron bullets for these calves
When I lock myself to write
In burial mode, I cut off their heads like John Wick
And kill their dog

Fake rappers
Who dress as criminals, can't resist
Because all their writers are ghosts, boo!
And ghosts don't exist

Rhyming in Spanish, undefeated like Rocky Marciano
This pig went against the Roman Empire
A Hispanic rapper, Republican
The urban Paris Hilton
He lightens up while I smoke a cigar
The sinner from Trujillo without a Bible in hand
I win and put you on your knees like in the Vatican
And I steal your soul
From all these pagans, down to the last grain
Because this Antillean is also a villain
To the false Christians, I send them to Capestrano
And they don't rebuild your career, not even with a surgeon
And I keep hitting you, worm, like the Spartans
So that none of your brothers recognize you
A slaughterhouse, the Serrano hams fly
The sky falls with me, the summer also ends
The Red Sea opens with fish jumping on the plain
And I destroy you because rapping, I'm not human

Decide-decide how many will die
Decide-decide who will live
Decide-decide how many will die