Flow ANTI-DEA

Zaramay, baby, okay
The boss of the underworld
Rra
Já

She looks at me with a bad face but I know she desires me
She twerks without me calling her (did you hear?)
Those of us who command the asphalt
For you to believe, you need to see
Flow anti-DEA, ha

She looks at me with a bad face but I know she desires me (I know)
She twerks without me calling her (did you hear?)
Those of us who command the asphalt
For you to believe, you need to see
Flow anti-DEA, ha

She looks at me with a bad face
With dark circles, disheveled and me with the bullet comb (bullet comb)
Everyone at the party, few in the room
To raise money, we'll only use the shovel (use the shovel)

Hey, lower the lean liters
While they drug themselves, Agustín takes their bitches away (Agustín takes them away)
We unearth the treasure from the garden
And we pass the time chilling in the cars with bling (with the bling)

I don't go by your brand, buddy, nah
You had a fake Nike that wasn't real (did you hear?)
The girl wants a copy of my keychain
And she's thinking of getting pregnant to enjoy from January to January (she's crazy)

The one with American flow taking Dominican
When I had her in my hand, you ran with the stun gun
The revolver of a Texan and that tastes like marijuana
I kill for my brothers and I never regret

She looks at me with a bad face but I know she desires me
She twerks without me calling her (did you hear?)
Those of us who command the asphalt
For you to believe, you need to see
Flow anti-DEA, ha

She looks at me with a bad face but I know she desires me (I know)
She twerks without me calling her (did you hear?)
Those of us who command the asphalt
For you to believe, you need to see
Flow anti-DEA, hey

Pablito already died
That black man didn't give me anything and he talks about what he didn't see
Skrt, flow 21 Savage
With coke in the backstage
Fatality, Johnny Cage
And whoever betrays us gets killed
We put him in a van and break his legs, forced
Hey, they gave us some information
We're going to look for the money, if that's what it's about

The Coach throws me a beat and I turn it into a hit, the kit is complete
She grabs my banana, splits it
The neck drip, rest in peace, rappers RIP
I ride in the brothel, whisky with a bitter taste
No dog can win a race against a greyhound
I fuck them without the gold, they already know my worth
In charge of putting the genre under embargo, hey

Nahuel The Coach