K.A.R.M.A.

Don’t come around here, we’re the real deal
We’re all psycho, crazy as hell
With vests and guns to face the karma
The cops are on my case, I’ve got a bad rep

We’re back so you better watch out
Here comes the one who represents, the white stuff I breathe
Shout out to the dealer and also to the godfather
Check out how it’s written with the finest style

Let them say who wants to mess with me, they won’t surprise me
Your girl always wants to see me, my shooters never sleep
The siren wails, echoing through the hood
The bullets crackle in my neighborhood

Don’t come around here, we’re the real deal
We’re all psycho, crazy as hell
With vests and guns to face the karma
The cops are on my case, I’ve got a bad rep

God forgive me for the times I’ve sinned
Not sorry, but I’m pretty messed up
I always take down the damn dog that barks at me
I aim, shoot, and hit you hard

Pass me two, if I want to go, sometimes I don’t even know where I am
But we’re the homies who never run, I swear we don’t
Firing shots so they see Santa Fe has arrived
Throwing punches, I never hide so they know who did it

If you’re tough, step up, come to my hood
Who’s got the guts? Say who, if you’ve got balls, shoot
Shoot (Shoot)
Santa, bro

Just like it hurts me
I suffered so much losing you
But I know that death
Can hit out of nowhere, huh

Don’t come around here, we’re the real deal
We’re all psycho, crazy as hell
With vests and guns to face the karma
The cops are on my case, I’ve got a bad rep

Damn Güero on the mic
Shout out to my hood
Santa