Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song El Bueno, El Malo Y El Feo, artist - Vico-C
Date of issue: 31.12.2002
Song language: Spanish
El Bueno, El Malo Y El Feo(original) |
Oye, el turno es del feo |
Así que tírate, tápate |
En vez de uno son tres |
De la peste los mareé |
Soy el que tira como las ve |
De la escuela del Vico y del E-D-D |
A ti se te trancó el bolo con el cocolo (Cómo?) |
Tus sueños de grandeza los desmorono, negrolo |
Y eso que están culpándonos, ajorándonos |
Hablando bazofia, marginándonos |
En vez de ser «Tego, el que te canta» |
Podría ser «Tego, el que te asalta», saco 'e trampa |
Lucho pa' que mi hija nunca pase hambre |
Por esa tienen que matarme |
Y no te creas que es de boca pa' fuera, canto 'e collera |
Me pongo necio en la rumidera |
Yo no tengo culpa de tu fracaso, payaso |
Déjame por loco y no hagas caso |
Oye lo que te conviene |
Llora, llora, nene |
Gente como tú sin control me tiene |
Tú no pagas mis deudas, ni me das plata |
Y es que de verdad no amenaza, guasa guasa |
Que yo no sé porque ellos quieren tirar pa' acá |
(Se le acabó el aceite a sus lámparas) |
Y es que no pueden con su letras tan zánganas |
(Quién dijo que no quedaba na', papá?) |
Que yo no sé porque ellos quieren tirar pa' acá |
(Se le acabó el aceite a sus lámparas) |
Y es que no pueden con su letras tan zánganas |
(Quién dijo que no quedaba na', papá?) |
Siente mi viaje |
Directo del clandestinaje |
Con un flow salvaje |
No hay personaje que se preste pa’l sabotaje |
No hay quien pueda con el cangrinaje |
Hablan de más y no dan pa' na' |
Se le acabó el aceite a sus lámparas |
Muchos philly, muchas armas, mucho bling-bling |
Y a la hora de la verdad salen huyendo como Houssein |
Esos mecanismos ya yo los conozco |
Llevan mil años tratando de tumbarme el quiosco |
No se comparan con la letra mía |
Porque viven en la isla pero de la fantasía |
Pana mío, no te duermas con el trío |
Pa' nosotros esto es pan comi’o |
Va muy ligero ni sueñes con ser primero |
Donde manda capitán no manda marinero |
Esto es un junte pa' la historia |
De Puerto Rico pal mundo es victoria |
Haciendo cosas diferentes |
Porque yo no estoy pega’o yo le gusto a la gente |
Que yo no sé porque ellos quieren tirar pa' acá |
(Se le acabó el aceite a sus lámparas) |
Y es que no pueden con su letras tan zánganas |
(Quién dijo que no quedaba na', papá?) |
Que yo no sé porque ellos quieren tirar pa' acá |
(Se le acabó el aceite a sus lámparas) |
Y es que no pueden con su letras tan zánganas |
(Quién dijo que no quedaba na', papá?) |
Aquí llegó el más que tiene muela |
Más clásico que Doña Fela |
El arquitecto de la vieja escuela |
Y se cancelan los planes de los que me celan |
Ahora vamos a ver si el gas pela |
Porque el pueblo mío come mucho más que Pac-man |
Tengo mucho más trucos que el cinturón de Batman |
Tus palabras contra la mías se te gastan |
Con lo tuyo se aburren, con lo mío se arrastran |
Aquí está el bueno, el malo y el feo |
Tirando tras nosotros cascaritas de guineo |
Pa’l que nos persiga se resbale, fua! |
Pa’l que habla del tecato y se le vira la quija' |
Gobierno, escucha bien mi queja |
Que tengo líricas que pueden destrozarte el chicho de la oreja |
De mi abusaste tras las rejas, pero ahora estoy afuera (que qué?) |
Y mi defecto no me acompleja |
So, salpica, brinca cuica |
Que lo que tengo es pica-pica |
Tú no me ganas ni en canicas |
Y mira quién se los explica, mastica |
Llegaron los que aplastan al que critica |
Que yo no sé porque ellos quieren tirar pa' acá |
(Se le acabó el aceite a sus lámparas) |
Y es que no pueden con su letras tan zánganas |
(Quién dijo que no quedaba na', papá?) |
Que yo no sé porque ellos quieren tirar pa' acá |
(Se le acabó el aceite a sus lámparas) |
Y es que no pueden con su letras tan zánganas |
(Quién dijo que no quedaba na', papá?) |
(translation) |
Hey, it's the turn of the ugly |
So lay down, cover up |
Instead of one there are three |
I made them dizzy from the plague |
I am the one who shoots as he sees them |
From the Vico school and the E-D-D |
Your bolo got stuck with the cocolo (How?) |
Your dreams of grandeur I crumble them, nigga |
And that they are blaming us, saving us |
Talking slop, marginalizing us |
Instead of being «Tego, the one who sings to you» |
It could be «Tego, the one who assaults you», I pull out the trap |
I fight so that my daughter never goes hungry |
That's why they have to kill me |
And do not think that she is from the mouth to 'outside, I sing' and collar |
I get foolish in the rumidera |
It's not my fault for your failure, clown |
leave me crazy and ignore |
Hey what suits you |
Cry, cry, baby |
People like you without control have me |
You do not pay my debts, nor do you give me money |
And it's really not a threat, joke joke |
That I don't know why they want to throw here |
(He ran out of oil for his lamps) |
And they can't with their so drone lyrics |
(Who said there was nothing left, dad?) |
That I don't know why they want to throw here |
(He ran out of oil in his lamps) |
And they can't with their so drone lyrics |
(Who said there was nothing left, dad?) |
feel my ride |
Straight from the underground |
With a wild flow |
There is no character who lends himself to sabotage |
There is no one who can with the cangrinaje |
They talk about more and they don't give pa' na' |
Your lamps ran out of oil |
Lots of philly, lots of guns, lots of bling-bling |
And at the moment of truth they run away like Houssein |
I already know those mechanisms |
They've been trying to knock down my kiosk for a thousand years |
They don't compare to my handwriting |
Because they live on the island but from the fantasy |
My friend, don't fall asleep with the trio |
For us this is a piece of cake |
It goes very light, don't even dream of being first |
Where the captain rules, the sailor does not rule |
This is a meeting for history |
From Puerto Rico to the world is victory |
doing different things |
Because I'm not attached or people like me |
That I don't know why they want to throw here |
(He ran out of oil in his lamps) |
And they can't with their so drone lyrics |
(Who said there was nothing left, dad?) |
That I don't know why they want to throw here |
(He ran out of oil in his lamps) |
And they can't with their so drone lyrics |
(Who said there was nothing left, dad?) |
Here came the most that has a tooth |
More classic than Doña Fela |
The old school architect |
And the plans of those who are jealous of me are canceled |
Now let's see if the gas peels |
Because my people eat much more than Pac-man |
I got a lot more tricks than Batman's belt |
Your words against mine are spent |
With what's yours they get bored, with what's mine they drag |
Here's the good, the bad and the ugly |
Throwing banana peels behind us |
Pa'l that persecutes us slips, fua! |
Pa'l who talks about the tecato and his jaw turns |
Government, listen well to my complaint |
That I have lyrics that can destroy your earlobe |
You abused me behind bars, but now I'm out (so what?) |
And my defect does not make me complex |
So, splash, jump cuica |
That what I have is pica-pica |
You don't beat me even in marbles |
And look who explains it to them, chews |
Those who crush the one who criticizes have arrived |
That I don't know why they want to throw here |
(He ran out of oil in his lamps) |
And they can't with their so drone lyrics |
(Who said there was nothing left, dad?) |
That I don't know why they want to throw here |
(He ran out of oil in his lamps) |
And they can't with their so drone lyrics |
(Who said there was nothing left, dad?) |