Cuatro Minutos Te Escupo

I'm legendary in the belly of Rap, zig-zagging
always thinking about something, just sitting talking to a Big-Mac
I say: "Blessed God".
I'm the one moving the snack machines at the station to see if M&M's fall
The nation has a favorite MC
each creation is an exhibition of written gestures,
the remains of a collision of meteorites
I'm not fooled by a scream,
I move smoothly with skill like the eyelashes of Short Circuit.
I have piranha lasagna accompanied by Doritos for dinner
Vice-president of the school of cursed writers
They say "I listen to you and I melt"
I don't get into it with the kids, they're kids,
I ride them like goats, play their favorite games
I'm Buzz-Light Year to infinity and beyond
Give me 3 days, one to think, two to write, three to kill your team
I have no side effects or they have not been described
There is no referee who blows the whistle and doesn't swallow it.
I compete in this league of myth, language, and legend.
David Carradine against Chuck Norris fighting on his ranch. It's tough, I have to laugh at the tough guys
when I see them in line at the police station renewing their ID
That's how it is, see? - they owe me
Good things, if brief, leave you wanting more
I reach Nirvana reading El Jueves
They don't dare to enter my room
I pass to the catacombs,
I fill it with gas, behind, I like Jazz more than Rumba
We go on tours, we raise blisters,
my new DJ has already debuted, fucking?
No, opening fire extinguishers in hotels,
they smell us. Dekoh breaks the TVs
I can snore until the receptionist wakes up.
Martin, my buddy and I, the biggest beer drinkers
I have a van without a trunk and a metalhead manager
This is the jungle, how? - Prey, hunters.
If you drop money on the floor, mouths come out like in "Tremors"
Aaah! I breathe. Life is a segment.
The church is waiting for me to die to make the new testament. I don't know who my daughter-in-law is and I don't even try
I grab clams from your fish tank and pull out Venus from the Renaissance
I don't care if you're rich and can expand the living room
or if you have so many concubines that King Solomon envies you. I'm as long as an endive, painted by El Greco,
unlimited like an Ecko design
You have many faces, which ones do you want me to idolize?
Don't try to be funny, I don't laugh with Carlos Latre
You won't understand shit in your fucking life
Want to see Hip-Hop? Then look at Frank-T with Adidas clothes. "You're on TV Tote!"
- And the weatherman too.
"Come on man, don't get upset!" - No, it's not that.
What importance do those little ghosts have?
I confess: I'd rather starve to death than do what Paz Padilla does
My rhymes are pursuit bullets,
I'm a guy dressed from Decathlon
with a black cap without a brand, on a free mic
or jumping in a puddle making people vibe
I only know that my flag is green
with a star in the center and that my quarry is boiling
Now it sounds like this, love for my buddies
basketball junkies, they toast with Nestea
More than you, what are you going to say?
If my ID photos are from the "Amelie" photo booth.
I warn you, when...don't give more than if,
put me on stage dead and I'll face it like El Cid
What do you say?, frenzy, bless my genesis.
I take you out of the market like the Laser-Disk
Ask my brother Capaz how many geniuses there are
who sign up for a big binge drinking Pepsi Light
For you... new forms, new slang, new style
You to hell, you to the asylum.
Great phrases don't come out every day,
mine are valid, perfect.
They are understood from South to North,
my records sell, it's not that I care
I want them to contribute to you,
listen to it at home, on the porch,
doing sports, in your transport, postmortem,
and you'll see strong songs that support you
in weak days, put on my cassette, I'll hold you back
It would be easy for me to go out with Che's shirt but...
My cachet speaks for itself when I do gigs I charge little
I don't have leftovers, my achievements are shown,
I maneuver much more to the left than you, right?
I don't know... How many screw-ups can you release on the Internet?
Those who resent this scene
it's because they're not invited to dinner,
and they never are part of it
It's not me anymore, it's the pen in prosopopoeia,
speaks, tells me stories, histories, jokes, fables
and it's dealing with Tote, you bet
The kind of person who gets lost in their own museum
Put on this record when you think it's going to rain
Lock it up and accompany it with wine and Les Luthiers
Independent or Indi-pendent and brute, astute.
4 minutes I spit on you.