Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Así Mismo , by - Canserbero. Song from the album Guía Para la Acción, in the genre Латиноамериканская музыкаRelease date: 07.04.2016
Song language: Spanish
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Así Mismo , by - Canserbero. Song from the album Guía Para la Acción, in the genre Латиноамериканская музыкаAsí Mismo(original) |
| Apenas con uso de razón en las esquinas de La Pica |
| Mi lindo barrio donde la sangre salpica |
| Agobiado por problemas que a los adultos mortifican |
| Yo con once años viendo cómo los sueños se achican |
| Inmaduro, hasta reggaetón pensé cantar |
| Esperando el dinero que supuestamente iba a llegar |
| Con el que luz vería, con el que ayudaría |
| Al don que en una bicicleta vendiendo helados me mantenía |
| Hoy en día hablan mal de mí a la ligera |
| Como si me interesara, como si me conocieran |
| Como si supieran mi nombre real, no Canserbero |
| Yo no soy rapero sino que sé rimar y soy sincero |
| Pero al parecer eso no importa en estos tiempos |
| En que pa' sonar en radio hay que cantar con otro acento |
| O decir que eres violento, como por ejemplo |
| Esos populares raperos que están presos o muertos |
| Señores, déjenme decirles que les han mentido |
| Que lo que hasta ahora han escuchado es mierda |
| Poco cuerda y sin sentido, por eso siento que he sido elegido |
| Para quitar las máscaras de esos que en vez de música hacen ruido |
| Porque he aprendido del fracaso |
| Yo no soy perfecto, men, yo soy lo que soy y a punta 'e coñazos |
| Para que venga un falso a discutir de mi humildad, de mi sinceridad |
| Cuando mi lema es ni menos ni más |
| Más que alego un pacto en el que me propuse que |
| Crearía letras al mundo en base a lo poco que sé |
| Y así fue como descubrí que más vale un puño arriba |
| Que un puño 'e papeles con la cara 'e Simón Bolívar |
| Mi fortuna es mi vida y hoy pocos dudan lo que diga |
| El Índigo, mejor conocido como el Matamentiras |
| Wannabes no captan que somos los prodigies |
| Entre enemies que quieren competir, real hip-hop it is |
| Hablando a la clara no somos del montón |
| Dedicado también a los oyentes tras el telón |
| Que en cada canción suben la mano a la ligera |
| Quizá por eso no hizo música bailable Alí Primera |
| Es que me da arrechera que se crean número uno |
| Títeres que no mueven las neuronas pero sí el culo |
| Algunos de ellos doblan temas en tarima |
| Montan bailarinas mientras te dicen que asesinan |
| Si hoy en día sus beats, son casi casi reggaetón |
| Y si oyen bien sus flows, son peores que Snoop Dogg o Lil' Jon |
| Na', come on son, ustedes son una falta 'e respeto |
| A la gente 'e verdad y a la forma de vivir en el ghetto |
| De paso ofenden a los que sí sacan cara por esto |
| Si temen al perro no me vean, déjenlo quieto |
| Chaqueta, lentejuelas, cadenas, lentes y anillos |
| Poses en la portada, cejas sacadas, zarcillo |
| Esa mierda no es hip-hop, entiendan de una vez por todas |
| Que hay gente real, no todas son títeres de la moda |
| Micrófonos, puños arriba, spray, viniles, saliva |
| Bombos, cajas, gente que te motiva |
| A que sigas luchando contra esta epidemia de mentiras |
| Sé que muchos aspiran poder grabar con Yandel |
| Yo solo aceptaría con KRS o Method Men |
| O con cualquier aquel fiel a su filosofía |
| Y que demuestre que el hip-hop no ha muerto todavía |
| Trabajo nueve horas al día, una sola es pa' la comida |
| En diez minutos como, cincuenta para hacer poesía |
| Por las noches leo, y oigo beats de Abito y Leo |
| Y el domingo voy arrecho al techo a grabar lo que creo |
| Sigo sacando dedo medio a los que me ven mal |
| Ninguno afronta que rimando verdad soy un animal |
| Que me podrán callar muerto y de pie sepultado |
| Pero ni mil canciones tergiversarán lo que he rimado |
| The real hip hop it is |
| The real hip hop it is |
| The real hip hop it is |
| The real hip hop it is |
| You know it’s Can Can, once again con el micro |
| Amarillo, azul y rojo, ocho estrellas en mi pecho he escrito |
| Si me maldicen no me afecta porque estoy maldito |
| Por cierto, si el rap ha muerto calla, yo lo resucito |
| You know it’s Can Can, once again con el micro |
| Amarillo, azul y rojo, ocho estrellas en mi pecho he escrito |
| Si me maldicen no me afecta porque estoy maldito |
| Por cierto, si el rap ha muerto calla, yo lo resucito |
| (translation) |
| Barely with use of reason in the corners of La Pica |
| My beautiful neighborhood where the blood splashes |
| Overwhelmed by problems that mortify adults |
| Me at eleven years old watching how dreams get smaller |
| Immature, I even thought of singing reggaeton |
| Waiting for the money that was supposed to arrive |
| With which light I would see, with which I would help |
| To the gift that on a bicycle selling ice cream kept me |
| Today they speak ill of me lightly |
| As if I care, as if they know me |
| As if they knew my real name, not Canserbero |
| I'm not a rapper but I know how to rhyme and I'm sincere |
| But apparently that doesn't matter these days |
| In what to sound on the radio you have to sing with another accent |
| Or say that you are violent, such as |
| Those popular rappers that are in jail or dead |
| Gentlemen, let me tell you that you have been lied to |
| That what they have heard so far is shit |
| Unsound and pointless, that's why I feel like I've been chosen |
| To remove the masks of those who make noise instead of music |
| Because I have learned from failure |
| I'm not perfect, man, I am what I am and at the end of the day |
| For a fake to come and discuss my humility, my sincerity |
| When my motto is neither less nor more |
| More than I claim a pact in which I proposed that |
| I would create letters to the world based on what little I know |
| And that's how I discovered that a fist up is better |
| That a fist of papers with the face of Simón Bolívar |
| My fortune is my life and today few doubt what I say |
| The Indigo, better known as the Killer |
| Wannabes don't get that we are the prodigies |
| Between enemies who want to compete, real hip-hop it is |
| Speaking clearly we are not the bunch |
| Dedicated also to the listeners behind the curtain |
| That in each song they raise their hands lightly |
| Maybe that's why Alí Primera didn't make dance music |
| It is that it gives me arrechera that they create number one |
| Puppets that do not move the neurons but the ass |
| Some of them dub songs on stage |
| They ride dancers while they tell you they murder |
| If today his beats are almost almost reggaeton |
| And if you hear their flows right, they're worse than Snoop Dogg or Lil' Jon |
| Na', come on son, you are disrespectful |
| To the people 'and truth and to the way of living in the ghetto |
| By the way, they offend those who do show a face for this |
| If you're afraid of the dog, don't see me, leave him alone |
| Jacket, sequins, chains, glasses and rings |
| Cover poses, raised eyebrows, earring |
| That shit ain't hip-hop, understand once and for all |
| That there are real people, not all of them are fashion puppets |
| Microphones, fists up, spray, vinyl, saliva |
| Drums, boxes, people who motivate you |
| To keep fighting this epidemic of lies |
| I know that many aspire to be able to record with Yandel |
| I would only accept with KRS or Method Men |
| Or with anyone faithful to his philosophy |
| And prove that hip-hop isn't dead yet |
| I work nine hours a day, only one is for food |
| In like ten minutes, fifty to make poetry |
| At night I read, and I listen to beats by Abito and Leo |
| And on Sunday I'm going to the roof to record what I think |
| I keep giving the middle finger to those who see me badly |
| No one faces that rhyming truth I'm an animal |
| That they can silence me dead and standing buried |
| But not a thousand songs will misrepresent what I have rhymed |
| The real hip hop it is |
| The real hip hop it is |
| The real hip hop it is |
| The real hip hop it is |
| You know it's Can Can, once again with the microphone |
| Yellow, blue and red, eight stars on my chest I have written |
| If they curse me it doesn't affect me because I'm cursed |
| By the way, if rap is dead, shut up, I'll resurrect it |
| You know it's Can Can, once again with the microphone |
| Yellow, blue and red, eight stars on my chest I have written |
| If they curse me it doesn't affect me because I'm cursed |
| By the way, if rap is dead, shut up, I'll resurrect it |
| Name | Year |
|---|---|
| Es Épico | 2016 |
| Querer Querernos | 2011 |
| Jeremías 17-5 | 2016 |
| Maquiavélico | 2016 |
| Llovía | 2016 |
| Un Día en el Barrio | 2016 |
| Epílogo | 2016 |
| Mundo de Piedra | 2016 |
| Cuando Vayas Conmigo | 2016 |
| Sin Mercy | 2016 |
| Advertencia | 2016 |
| De Mi Muerte | 2016 |
| Prólogo | 2016 |
| Siempre | 2015 |
| Te quiero ft. Canserbero | 2016 |
| La Voz | 2016 |
| Corazones de Piedra | 2016 |
| El Primer Trago | 2016 |
| Visiones | 2016 |
| La Hora del Juicio | 2016 |