En El Radio Un Cochinero (Lluvia de Balas)

And on the radio, a mess
Peel off from the canton, this one is already twisted
And step on the gas, they are following you
My mind got cloudy
And I took a dry step

In my chest, my horn
I entrusted myself to Saint Jude
I put on a vest
I raised the glock, my finger was just trembling
I heard a skid and I looked at them from afar

The hail of bullets came, the rain of bullets
Several hit the glass
I got into the dust and in that gap
The big Cherokee, slipped away from them

The rifle wasn't necessary
I lost them in the gaps
And just for revenge, I stuffed a plane full
Today we are the ones who are here
And tomorrow, let it be whatever God wants

And just so you know how the chain rubs, old man
Victor Cibrian!

They felt fear
When they saw that the shot was not accurate
I heard that several even hid
Forgiveness is not enough, they stuck to their action

A convoy from hell
Pure rag faces, we go after the finger
Betrayals are paid for, but with Saint Peter
He wanted to light the fire and they went up in flames

I fell into the den
Where those scum, with rifles and gear, were waiting for me
The hail of bullets came
Three bullets in the chest of the enemy hit me

With strength, I fired the rifle
Write down five on the count
I couldn't escape this one
We reap what we sow
For we were born to die, and whoever is afraid
Better not come