A Donde Van

If on every corner I spit a new group jumps
I'm not worried that for lack of coke you smoke basuco
If I went from clothes and their bacchanal tricks when rappers looked like models taken from postcards
I'm in mourning. I dress with these instrumentals 3 minutes to fly over the cuckoo's nest
Taking care of every detail of my metric after having sounded these years on rather diabetic beats
And raw
I have my religion, my own ethics my girl worries only about cosmetics
My methods are like petal rains, in the street change the chip because there only he rules kill him
Cunning bastard with a long tongue, an album that is not backed by a live MC that diminishes
And if he doesn't learn
It will serve as a snack for the tigers, he will lose a garment, possibly the reins
I debut, facing an uncompassionate audience and I have been writing for a long time, to show that I am hurt
My style is to walk as if nothing happened knowing that a slip
Will make me synonymous with oblivion

Where do all those boys without wings go?
Where do all those kisses that are not given go? There will be a couch for each dwelling and a facade painted by the slk or by some other rogue

After a couple of months with the author's crisis problem and a couple of analyses I have made it difficult again
I have a missile under my bed pointing at the mountain where my friend Osama hides
Yesterday I crossed paths with death under a bridge and it crossed my view after view everything is different
But I keep my thorns as always even though my old clients do not keep their teenage minds
Where do all those spoiled children go upstream?
Who will then drift lacking saliva
If I accompany myself with this homicidal rap it's because of new MCs who want to take over and it sounds like Memphis. It seems unbelievable, only you?
Only you Elvis go with a split pelvis
Rap kings taken from sewers from all over the world a deep thought every second activates
To a nation underground. Rebels ready for war
Only deserters are banished and go to limbo
Dreaming of Bimbo graffiti
Then I give up
After singing a bingo

Where do all those boys without wings go?
Where do all those kisses that are not given go?
Is there a place to live like a fairy tale?
But surely it's very expensive and I can't afford it