Cumbia de La Santa

From the alleys of La Santa Fe
Those from Alzada, comrade
For everyone
Turn up the cuuumbiaaa

Let's go for another carton
To feel better
And a little bit of moy

Let's go for another carton
To feel better
And a little bit of moy

I sing to her with love and passion
I always carry her in my mind and my heart
Danger with death in the alley
I have homies in jail and in the pantheon
Wounds have been left on me
Scars that have not healed
I only defend my side
Her name on my skin, I carry it tattooed

Alarm because karma is on the fields
Rolling to see who disarms
Different blood, brothers of La Santa
Outside it's hot, here life is sung
Little virgin of my neighborhood
Protect my people from the neighborhood
Getting out of poverty is necessary
The skinny one doesn't warn, she has no schedule

Let's go for another carton
To feel better
And a little bit of moy

Let's go for another carton
To feel better
And a little bit of moy

At night she is alone and silent
She gets cold and dangerous
Always dark and painful
The most vicious and contagious
She is the owner of my childhood
Where patrols and ambulances are based
Alleys of vagrancy
Marijuana is her fragrance
Cumbia

In Santa Fe it is danced
In the square they sing it
Because those who threaten don't scare her
I have homies who are missing
Conflicts don't stop
There are dogs barking at me
But mine will reach you

(Turn up the cumbia)

Let's go for another carton
To feel better
And a little bit of moy

Let's go for another carton
To feel better
And a little bit of moy