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 |