Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song El Infierno de Tu Gloria, artist - Kaydy Cain. Date of issue: 07.02.2009
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: Spanish
El Infierno de Tu Gloria(original) |
| Corredores de Bloque |
| Para mis chicos del parque |
| Para mi familia de distinta sangre, en especial, Jorge Sanchez, AKA Caballo |
| En el infierno de tu gloria puse mis sueños |
| Verdades como que esta mierda nació entre negros |
| Mucho falso hustler, chuleando |
| Entregamos, ese niño pasa desapercibido y mueve kilos |
| Ángeles caídos, libertad |
| Corredores de Bloque en Madrid, ciudad (Ja) |
| Escribiendo líneas con pecados, he perdonado |
| Pero antes hubo un castigo, eso está claro |
| Sé quien me cubre las espaldas y quien me apunta al cuello |
| Sé que tengo prohibido el cielo |
| En state of game, como Wallace |
| Mi hermano prefiere prisión a que le entierren 7 balas |
| Escupo miedo para valientes |
| En el ghetto del Queens fuman crack y no tienen dientes |
| Esos negros nacieron con la ruina, no la buscaron |
| Tú vienes con tu banda y tus pinchos |
| Yo tengo el respaldo de mis tochos y jinchos |
| Así que vete por donde has venido |
| No es que no me fíe, pero desconfío |
| No me busques más amigos, que ya tengo los míos |
| Líos manchados de sangre, escriben tu nombre |
| Olor a rueda quemada entre sirenas |
| Mis negros de calle, no lucen bandas |
| Lucen dramas y penas, veneno en vena |
| Quien siembra odio recoge mierda |
| Quien siembra amor, recoge puñaladas traperas |
| Mis perros, gorras planas, Nueva Era |
| Pisan con Nike, chupas North Face o beisboleras |
| Calorras dejan de llevar oro y visten del rollo |
| Pantalones caga’os de pitillo y tacones |
| Putas de estas, van robando corazones |
| Yo dejo el corazón en casa, sólo bajo los cojones |
| Con la mirada fría, pero ardiéndome los ojos |
| Como Tony Soprano, sonriendo entre violencia |
| Putas no saben lo que valen, pero tienen un precio, su conciencia |
| Uh |
| Su conciencia |
| Su conciencia |
| Su conciencia |
| En el infierno de tu gloria |
| (translation) |
| Block Runners |
| For my boys in the park |
| To my mixed blood family, especially Jorge Sanchez, AKA Caballo |
| In the hell of your glory I put my dreams |
| Truths like this shit was born between blacks |
| Lot of fake hustler, pimping |
| We deliver, that child goes unnoticed and moves kilos |
| fallen angels, freedom |
| Block Brokers in Madrid, city (Ja) |
| Writing lines with sins, I have forgiven |
| But before there was a punishment, that's clear |
| I know who's got my back and who's aiming for my neck |
| I know that I have forbidden the sky |
| In state of game, like Wallace |
| My brother prefers prison to being buried with 7 bullets |
| I spit fear for the brave |
| In the Queens ghetto they smoke crack and have no teeth |
| Them blacks was born with ruin, they didn't look for it |
| You come with your band and your spikes |
| I have the support of my billets and jinchos |
| So go where you came from |
| It's not that I don't trust it, but I'm suspicious |
| Don't look for more friends, I already have mine |
| Bloodstained messes, write your name |
| Smell of burning wheel between sirens |
| My street blacks, they don't wear bands |
| They show dramas and sorrows, poison in vein |
| Who sows hate collects shit |
| Who sows love, collects backstabs |
| My dogs, flat caps, New Age |
| They step on Nike, you suck on North Face or baseball |
| Calorras stop wearing gold and wear the roll |
| Caga'os skinny pants and heels |
| These whores are stealing hearts |
| I leave my heart at home, only under my balls |
| With a cold look, but burning my eyes |
| Like Tony Soprano, smiling through violence |
| Whores don't know their worth, but they have a price, their conscience |
| uh |
| your conscience |
| your conscience |
| your conscience |
| In the hell of your glory |