Solo Contra Todos Ustedes

Yeah, man!
Puerto Ricans NY!
What's up!
No respect!
They know my name now!
Come On!

I start the action
With the one two, one two
Hey me, who has more flow than me?
Master Joe is dead in life with the bimbasos
Don't suffer anymore, my friend, and shoot yourself
Tell the black man to do you a favor and rest in peace
To send you a crown in the name of David Sanchez
And the other crown belongs to my people at heart
What is that worth to the greatest alicaton?
Come on!
They have the Olympic floor
Or nervous attacks
Snipers target themselves
Die for your selfishness, mamabichos
And by the power that contracts in my rhythm
I am the same
What a look and fit
Tempo
The one who smokes grass
In Boricuas NY
Making an impact
in connection
Crossing the pond from New York
To Puerto Rico
Making Polaco and Lito suck

I
Alone against all of you
Tempo
In Puerto Ricans in New York
What's up
How many are they going to throw at me?
Uh-huh!
Shoot and give them promotion
I
Alone against all of you
Tempo
In Puerto Ricans in New York
What's up
How many more are they going to throw?
Uh-huh!
Shoot and give them promotion

The squad does not exist
They already died for clowns
They picked up songs
And they want to try shots
Nobody pays attention to them anymore
People laugh at you
Nobody wants them anymore
They have no fans or women
Poor Master
He has only a few days left to live.
He looks skinny and due to physical wear and tear
He doesn't even breathe anymore
Poor Bruno
He will be left alone in the war
One by one
You and I
And I'm going to make you eat dirt
Monkey, here
Here's your bonus banana
You don't have lyrics
You can never sit on my throne
I eat your ass
And to those who throw me
To those who support the squad
And to those who look at me badly
So much talk about snipers
They aimed wrong
They were scared
What kind of fuckers
They don't have balls
Don't talk about values
If there are no hearts
Mamones are my gender
They make up nothing

I
Alone against all of you
Tempo
In Puerto Ricans in New York
What's up
How many are they going to throw at me?
Uh-huh!
Shoot and give them promotion
I
Alone against all of you
Tempo
In Puerto Ricans in New York
What's up
How many more are they going to throw?
Uh-huh!
Shoot and give them promotion

This message arrives by mail, the messenger
You don't have the attitude to be a rapper
First stop looking so much in the mirror.
You have to be real and stop acting so stupid.
You are on a pretty trip and I am on an ugly trip
Alright
But don't act as a postman in a video
letting me see
And the one who beats the panic squad
Riding on a ship that sank like the titanic
I smoke blunts
And Nicky, you give your ass for an "X"
Faggot, worm
You imitate Mexican well
You like to throw the stone and hide your hand
I swear I'm going to make songs to you, and I don't swear in vain
What will remain of you and Yankee is going to be history
When I put them in the trunk of a Great Victory
and throw them away
In the world of the cliffs of Cayey
Who is the king of rap
Respect the law

So you can see!
Ecko!
Puerto Ricans NY, man!
You cant fuck with us!
Come on! Come on!
Fuck you, man!
Fuck you!
Die alone!
No respect!