Crossover

Metro in the seventies, I know it’ll end up in Guinness
Hit up Oscar and get him to sponsor you
Soundtrack for this movie of green traffic lights
That’s why I came, let RAP sway you.
It’s announced on TV, blowing up at all the festivals
Now write... the party’s over.
They admire my moves, waiting for my break
SFDK closes the lineup for the town’s party.
Now they’ll say RAP is the future
For me, they can all go take a breath of fresh air
Put them against the wall,
My crew’s going in raw, Mar Adentro, toasting with cyanide.
I represent the working class
That wears their heart on their sleeve and breaks the barrier
With a long etcetera... of why it’ll be
That SFDK kills it at any festival.
Now, no beating around the bush, wanna take a stroll?
In my conservatory, we don’t study solfeggio
It’s more about how well you keep it together, so ugly.
That’s why I roll with Action Sanchez, the King of sampling... I think!!!

From me to you
No dogs at customs
The border is the perimeter of our caravan
From me to you
What the hell does the ID matter?
If I do it like this, my name is Zatu (Call me MC)

2005 SFDK signs Jorge Gascón and it sounds clean
Baroque art with Corinthian details
And I come back all regretful, dude, when I know I lied to you.
You can label it acid art
When on an Oscar instrumental, I feel so placid
I host the world in a hostel and freeze it to death
How many got hooked on RAP after one of my shows?
With all my clothes covered in pomade
Zatu, what’s that stain? Nah... just something that opens up.
At this point, this group is labeled as Crossover
For all we’ve insisted on.
I sound as real or more than life
I carry the lyrics of my songs written in my pupils
A matter of status, I cry from me to you
Who else could it be, damn it? Oscar and Zatu!!!
My hometown still feels sad
Some laugh at others for how they dress
Excuse me for splashing you with fertilizer
For a rapper, I...
And when you sing, watch your tone.

From me to you
No dogs at customs
The border is the perimeter of our caravan
From me to you
What the hell does the ID matter?
If I do it like this, my name is Zatu (Call me MC)

[Bonus]
They fall from the sky like ships
The inspector doesn’t know there are 3 blind notes in the AVE cafeteria,
Let’s hope they wash it for us,
That the businessmen only ask for the B to know what it tastes like,
Mouthwash, they fall from the sky like water
Now they’re on TV saying their style is brewing,
Let’s hope they suck a lot underneath
Here, people aren’t dumb and want to get paid for their work,
We wear garlic necklaces and crucifixes
We provoke cuts in your kids’ ears,
We have big stashes of words and stacks of papers
Bits of hate in the drawers of the desk.
They fall from the sky like it’s nothing
And even Tony Santos puts them in his videos making windmills,
Looks like Al Pacino’s your godfather, kid,
But my concerts fill up more than your favorite bands.
They fall from the sky like lightning
Planning to shit on the world, hiding
In their rehearsal spaces
Feathered, throats with calluses
I earn my living unless I’m a lackey.
They fall from the sky when the Rooster sings
They look at them like gods but they’re people and have flaws
Our DJs still distinguish between side A and B,
They use vinyl and shoot you from the air
They fall from the sky like CD mixers,
One day I threw out the window
A second of silence for the music that’s in my beat,
Label me a rapper...

Before, you left us on the ground,
Now rap is stone
That’s why they fall from the sky (4x)

They fall from the sky like curses
The flight attendants get tangled up so it doesn’t get messy on the planes,
I curse your nipples.
You think I won’t hide the bottles of rum from you?
First class where the food’s the best?
They fall from the sky like frogs,
The concerts they organize usually smell like weed,
No wonder they beat around the bush,
What’s abnormal is that they make songs so "Flama"
That for stepping on this grass
Every earthly family has a different vibe,
The plague spreads and the name of rap gets slandered
You’ll be a carrier of the virus when you get gray hair.
They fall from the sky like Castro over Havana
That’s why so many homies want to cut our faces,
Don’t blame me, blame my fame
I swear to you if you want, for my songs and for my mom,
They fall from the sky like meteors
All against the world, and the world against all,
I’m sorry for you, Casanova
Now the rappers steal your girls,
Even if it’s just because they’re trendy
I hope they screw them all.
They fall from the sky like a drill
Siempre Fuertes 4 controls it,
Moorish music on CD for your video game console.
They fall from the sky like paintballs
They put light on that dark wall
Cartoons, act like you don’t care
And let it catch you,
Label me a rapper.