ACA NO SE SALVA NINGUNO (feat. Obie Wanshot)

How many here talk street?
God knows that's not the truth
Even if the public buys it or flashes
Certain things won't change

How many here talk street?
How many parts are missing to explain?
How many here talk street?
And God knows that's not the truth

In the studio during the season
With a fresh mind and a couple of automatic rhymes
They ask how we make the move
And even though I don't show anything, I didn't lose any practice

How many claim they know it all?
But they only fit under the bar
How many boast they made it?
But no one saw them being real with what they sing

Your girl keeps coming back because she loves it
She became addicted to what she lacks
Even if they try to cover her, she doesn't need it
On the contrary, her throat

Came down with a great hand and dealt all the cards
The guys betting on who can handle it
By how I handle the math
I warned you my practice didn't go away

Never had a coach, I roll with Don Rouch
Making money was never a problem
Sometimes I don't write to avoid talking shit
They don't fool me, I don't buy that cream

These bitches can never be bosses
So put whatever name you want
So sell whatever shit you want
The street gives you, but also burns you and asks for more

I quit, but there's always someone else who wants in
That bitch tells me she wants to hear me with YSY A
This is not a business for us
Imagine if I announce I'm here
They act like they believe in Disney
I also have friends ready for crime

Ouh, ouh, ouh (hey)
Ouh, ouh, ouh

In my neighborhood twenty and knot (ouh)
No one is saved here (gang, gang)
Jam in my smoke
They are pure smoke

Obie Wanshot is pure lineage
They say I come from the future
I go quietly, almost mute (shh)
An Apple Cookie is what I smoke

An Acapulco is what I smoke
I'm relaxed, black, abundant
An OG Kush is what I smoke
So I'll have to roll one up

I call the MOB if I'm in trouble
I don't trust anyone anymore
I always mind my own business without lumps
Eating a little ass for breakfast

And I always mind my own business, don't know anyone
Their first love, if they didn't have this
They make me swear, but I don't swear anymore
It shows in the taste, baby, I heal it

Look at the jersey, how I sweat it
Even if I don't rap, drink, I make money
I'm not like them, I don't break
Mine is really, baby, I don't act
We're gonna give you

A couple more shots of this, ma', and the trap stays locked
Lowering these sounds from an unimaginable place
His girl soaped up and rinsed off, made friends with the bathroom
And I invited one or two and it was the afterparty of the year

These hoes multiply like numbers in elementary school
They say we'll see each other soon, don't think it's necessary, okay
The calendar is full of fire, okay
Roque lowers the ice daily, okay
Can't put it out, okay
I drip between my footprints

33, sang the scores, there are always hands to cut them
There's no lack of trumps that suffice
If the envy of a few, okay
All options are rotating
Business day, holiday or vacation
Twenty-four hours, stocks rise
Within this company for these songs