Ocho Kilos de Goma

And don't go burning the race, comrade

With eight kilos of rubber in Villa Union they caught me
I had it well stuck in my hat and boots
That's why the federal agents couldn't find anything in my truck

They put me on the ramp and went underneath
No matter how much they searched, they didn't find the drugs
The commander, annoyed, soon interrogated me

Where are you walking with those fancy boots?
Tell me your name and what you do
With the hat and boots, you look like an artist

I told the commander I'm a vocalist in a band
And I'm going to El Espinal to pick up my wife
The commander told me to take off my boots

As I bent down a little, my hat fell off
And when I picked up my hat, doubt quickly arose
The commander was clever, he found the drugs on me

When he took off my jacket, the belt revealed it
The same happened with the armadillo boots I was wearing
Oh well, they got me, damn my luck