Pura Droga Sin Cortar

You're not writing ...
I'm with my train, do you like it? I just bought it
And since when haven't you written anything?
Since I was traveling
Maybe you have nothing else to say, look here I marked several possible jobs for you
I don't need you to look for work for me, I'm fine like this, I'm a poet
What profession is being a poet? where it says here: 'poet wanted, good pay'

I bring six million ways to die, only one to live,
I'm a b-boy until death is what I mean
Don't compare me to a rapper who rhymes just to rhyme,
Javier Ibarra is unique, an icon of fucking rap,
I've rhymed thousands of words and still want more,
About the rhythm, you know I taught them a thousand ways,
You can call this the kase.o era
Sorry, there's no message in this verse, I am the message,
I only bring pure competition on the track,
No money, no fame, only rap matters,
All to be the king of the lifelong mic,
If no one beat me, and no one will, my effort is sick,
You want to get where I am, in two days?
Yesterday you were my fan, today you're a god, nonsense!
What were you saying, my dude, I get paid for the flows,
But undoubtedly the best prize is the applause at the shows,
Self-taught, no one knows the trick,
Genetics and larynx, lyrical engineering in the groove,
You already know who, the brothers and Rubén,
We spend hour after hour in the studio until it's right,
A thousand thoughts per second, this is not life,
Which of the voices is the one the murderer hears,
I don't know but I hear you and feel like killing,
Shitting and vomiting, breaking your compact,
Don't blame us for mistakes we haven't made and you have,
Now you see your pride swallowed raw like sushi,
Mc pussy, fucking cheesy, don't talk to me about jacuzzi,
The only one you've seen you paid for in a brothel,
And anyone can do that, but my way,
It's unique in fucking outer space, I'm sending you out,
Like Erik, I'm the fucking boss and I fire you,
I tell you: 'out of rap, asshole', condemn yourself to oblivion, me,
I come with kilometric rhymes, you won't compete,
Then you'll say: 'damn asshole, how you delirious,'
Take measures, cure your rap of these wounds,
Suck on my flash, drink energy drinks,
To scare my metrics,
Put on a uglier mask, buddy, come on, remove it,
My hermaphrodite rap is a fucking drool that fucks both boys and girls,
If you want, scream, maybe it just puts the tip in,
But you want a fat gush of warm milk,
And be amazed by the flows of the cosmopolitan, my fucking rhetoric,
Ask around, how many enjoy my legacy,
I consider myself a reference in the genre,
That tendency to deny the evidence,
The one who hates us must be patient,
You can't copy the essence, stupid ass,
You can tell the surgeon to put my cheekbones on you,
But don't play dumb, bro, don't blame the public,
It smells bad and it's your ass-phonic style,
Blind to myself, yes, to my egocentrism,
But I feel a powerful magnetism for the rhythm,
And rap is my lifelong friend,
For a crazy guy like me, the only way out,
I don't make club music, I don't expect the DJ to play me
Well if he plays rumba, you might hear me,
If he plays potas, I'll sound after pump that bass
If he plays señor rojo, after isaac hayes
I don't expect you to memorize this verse,
Just listen to me in the car,
And from the sidewalk people say: 'what raw music is that?'
How annoying! this is the shit even the princess's daughter listens to,
I warn you they said today alberto got married,
And one of the guests left his car open,
That javat has died and the truth of this,
Is that today I offer a concert to the expert,

In a narration of true interest,
In today's chapter,
I put the toy...yacos! in their own sphincters,
Download it from the internet,
My rhyme takes you in a cart pulled by tigers,
There's a ravine full of them, if you follow me I'll show you,
It will be like a bad dream
I throw toys from the fucking guild,
I deserve a prize, I'm just a lazy bohemian smoker,
But you have a label or a pastry company,
Include a cool sticker at least with the album you want,
Do you really like rap? you don't have to be an MC son,
Why don't you want the advice I leave you?
I don't care, I do it for you, I save you scares,
And a path of stones and snakes behind the bushes,
Abrupt and cruel, leisure business,
When people get bored of you... fuck off! find another audience buddy,
Don't be surprised to know my potion,
I bring emotion to the boiling point,
High cuisine of rhyme, turn raps into jelly,
Sewer fodder, you can't imagine,
My dentist asked me what I did for a living,
I told him the truth, he thought I was delirious,
He looked at the tube of anesthesia with a strange face,
In the future he asked his niece to sign for me,
And my neighbor, how's it going with the orchestra, 'eh... cool cool...'
How to explain that I'm at the top,
And that rap is out of control like my beard,
And that it's your ugly commercial butterfly against my larva,
I have my nerves shattered, depression after depression,
It's not easy to be who I am but,
When I feel the best like today,
I see the light and think, damn what a cross you bear homeboy
And I don't know, they don't have lyrics to back up so much pose,
I leave them in the dust, don't cough at me,
Possession of the exclusive canon is my advantage,
I keep the fire alive, for the b-boy of bass drum and snare,
I'm amazed by the rhythm and think bon voyage,
I look outside and all the lights are going backwards,
I sit in the cockpit of a concor
On this rhythm pure blood after five years,
Killing your hunger with hunger,
Now listen to my jazz, pure drug like elpho
Delusions of grandeur? no, I've won effortlessly again,
I entertain them,
With hard music,
And harsh words,
That's how I come,
I come riding in a big jeep,
A bic, a block, a pencil, a fat beat,
Do you think you're brad pitt? oh yeah?
You look more like a back street from the maxi photo,
My rap isn't done in a jiffy, maybe your disguise is,
Extra, extra, my shit is masterful,
Put in your shit it shows,
This time the mix is perfect,
Javat affects, select rumba,
Hip-hop rhythm that the b-boy injects,
Raises the spirit and the abject soul,
Rapper trapper cinnamon that you don't connect,
Is offered in sacrifice to the god of the sect,
They say flowers wither,
But I have arabic irrigation in the garden, of my mosque...