Tell me about who you are so that I believe you
|
Bring something bragging
|
I let it be created
|
In the film
|
your lyrics are super ridiculous
|
The black ta curao of fright really
|
You don't have to help me or anything
|
the guileless bandit
|
He never talks about what he lived
|
Does what needs to be done and off we go
|
Sing it to me simple but with meaning
|
To dream the street, you don't have to have a premonition
|
Being negative or so piggy
|
He offers to stab, he has no knife
|
Bring it like him, I don't put on makeup
|
I don't run with a goat, I took the goat's leg
|
No more colored confis
|
The champa oca arrived in the talkers.
|
fucking vato clown
|
From the laughter it's killing me
|
They talk too much
|
And they don't go to the mambo.
|
fucking vato clown
|
From the laughter it's killing me
|
They talk too much
|
And they don't go to the mambo.
|
fucking vato clown
|
From the laughter it's killing me
|
They talk too much
|
And they don't go to the mambo.
|
fucking vato clown
|
From the laughter it's killing me
|
They talk too much
|
And they don't go to the mambo.
|
You have killed like a million
|
without taking a case
|
I gave you away as a clown
|
You snore a lot and that's your weakness
|
Here on the street you lost credibility
|
You don't have a friend
|
You don't have people
|
you walk with a witness
|
I walk with present
|
You copy me
|
More bastard than a samper
|
and walk around
|
More shit than a pamper
|
And you know that they are not from cora
|
What fits you this lao men in the station
|
They criticize me
|
But when I buzz they sting
|
Nobody lives what they preach (HEY!)
|
You are not real, you are a toy
|
You are not a man, you are a mandulete
|
You have not graduated, you are a cadet
|
You are not charcoal, you are peanuts.
|
fucking vato clown
|
From the laughter it's killing me
|
They talk too much
|
And they don't go to the mambo.
|
fucking vato clown
|
From the laughter it's killing me
|
They talk too much
|
And they don't go to the mambo.
|
this is wicker
|
activated
|
super engorilao
|
Calibrate
|
for my lao
|
(Shh!) they talk too much
|
Calm down calm down I have them caviao
|
So here, don't put the commands to live together in the neighborhood in the bed
|
Tremendous hit (Wow)
|
Take her wind but she left fao
|
Those who know, know that all of it is montao
|
What are fools crillao
|
It's my fault for having them badly used to it
|
For letting her pass when they ask for cocoa
|
Tego called me to throw him in the Undertook
|
Well, to throw him out, you don't need a glock
|
They talk about taking him out, killing
|
Of what they send and they go
|
But I would like to see them in a ran-tan-tan-tan
|
Where I repalo I kill tarzan
|
If they bite out of the pot they go they go.
|
fucking vato clown
|
From the laughter it's killing me
|
They talk too much
|
And they don't go to the mambo.
|
fucking vato clown
|
From the laughter it's killing me
|
They talk too much
|
And they don't go to the mambo.
|
If he doesn't kill me with a bullet, kill me with laughter
|
And watch over me Eloisa
|
take my gut out
|
and make a cuica
|
And whoever trips it itches (it itches)
|
To what we live, back
|
With violence there is no progress (NO! NO!)
|
put it doll break your brains
|
And tell me something in the process
|
So that what you hear comes out winners
|
I'm the conscience in the fuckers
|
And me without cebones
|
If the cloes sound
|
The minors learn something.
|
I contradict myself
|
every time i write
|
I start off good and lose my temper
|
bring collections
|
They rip mine
|
But legions for my enemies.
|
Damn vato clown (WIIIIII!)
|
From the laughter it's killing me
|
They talk too much
|
And they don't go to the mambo.
|
fucking vato clown
|
From the laughter it's killing me
|
They talk too much
|
And they don't go to the mambo.
|
That of taking it out to use it
|
It is clear but the sentence is long
|
The one who told you maybe he has never gone to prison
|
May I know what I'm telling you. |