Chicago

Here wandering the streets with contraband rhymes
I brought you fine style, 47 brings the command
From San Luis to the streets of Chicago
I walk with pure thugs, supplying the whole market

Cactus Colombia, let cricos and mummies dance
This is for my flag, I carry it in my memory
From the lowest neighborhoods of California
Many threw stones at me dreaming of living my story

Stay quiet if you don't know anything about me
I don't forget anyone, much less my crew
I don't lower my gaze, we go out in the early hours
So there's no trace left, they have their faces covered
They have their faces
Faces covered
They have, they have
They have their faces, covered faces

It's 4:20 to board the plane
My notebook, my speaker, and my blunt accompany me, yeah
Mexican to the death, bastard
On this side, there's no more fear, we have no compassion

I'm going to get myself damn high
Get lost and let my mouth go numb
From so many drugs, I feel like everything's exploding
It's another crazy night that I throw myself into with my crew

Burn the drop, the rock, and also the weed
Terror in the truck, the girl goes crazy
Burn the drop, the rock, and also the weed
Terror in the truck, the girl goes crazy

I shoot them on the microphone, I have a lethal flow
I'm still the same crazy, I'm still the same real
Bro, no one will ever make us change
Bro, there's no cure for this disease
Bro, there's no cure for this disease

I'm going to get myself damn high
Get lost and let my mouth go numb
From so many drugs, I feel like everything's exploding
It's another crazy night that I throw myself into with my crew

Burn the drop, the rock, and also the weed
Terror in the truck, the girl goes crazy
Burn the drop, the rock, and also the weed
Terror in the truck, the girl goes crazy

Hey-yo, it's Tornillo on the microphone
From San Luis, Potosí, bro
From the damn 473, man
Damn factory of pure damn annexed
Of the salts, bro

The damn grinding
The damn Canelo
And we keep smoking
It's damn good, man