Ladies and Gentlemen
Soldier and Prophet Remix
Soldiers who have committed their life as if it were a game
Soldiers who gave everything that could be their life to a firearm
People who break down the problems of the street as if they were prophets
People who exchanged their inner peace for nights of hatred, restless hours
Situations that are no longer healthy
That can no longer be controlled with their hands
Walking demons controlling human bodies
That moment where there is no longer a chance to run
The rifle sounds, biting and digesting your skin
The abundance of hearts was consumed with calm
And whatever they do after I leave the step
Satan already has your soul pointed out

The dead come and go, PR looks like Vietnam
Things are not as before
God forgive me I know I'm doing wrong
These bastards are not going to kill me

The rifles and the glock, the mask and the gloves
The chipete is my 40 and the arm of a demon
Looking for these bastards to give them a wake
And we'll see each other in the oven

At gunpoint we put you in a trunk
It's just that you fold yourself when the full spits at you
You know about us I walk with the new blood
Quick cicada that gives you cramps in the chest
Camping for Boston, pury time of those who twist faces
Son of a bitch you don't understand the monsters have arrived
The cost of Ñengo has risen since versatility
A 47 pistol for the motherfuckers who are ready and for me
Where the R gives you twist
We are real warriors we don't know the perse
Wherever we arrive they have to move or hide
I empty it completely lambebicho if you grow
I'm from Baya and with pride don't sail the marullo
Because without boasting I take out and give you yours
Anuel, Almi, Ozuna we walk chipeteao' spitting the moon
You're going to cry blood soon and torture in your capture

(Son of a bitch we're coming for you, get ready because you're going to die face to face like a
Man, a lot of shooting from head to toe)

Soldier and prophet but my bible is my glopeta
I get on with the AK and erase your mask
Living in war like Sinaloa and Lozeta
Riding in a taxi with the vendetta mask
Yampi tell him that whoever touches you
We're going to leave him hanging on a post
The pelco in the pot in the waist the chipote
Talk shit and I put my Jordan on your mustache
We have the route I nail your whore
I have the rifle in the cabin like Tupac
Smoking with Coa hunting like boa
I send you a slap and you fall like Gamboa
From Carolina to Santurce and from Santurce to Carola
Bastards there are no vests for the chola
Here it's not about having a gun because I wait for you outside the chanoli
And I kill you under the water so it doesn't attract a tail
Recruit, they're dying make an adjustment
Because the AK made a mess
Don't be scared but if we dress in mourning
Movie they're going to make the R debut
All the guns are new and all the rifles are new
I know what it's like to live in war I don't hide
We get into your neighborhood when they're squaring
And we kill those who were shooting and the relays
Almighty whatever for the money
The guns always inside the whorehouse
I'm going to Medellin I wait for them outside the mero
With the F and we light up the violin
Cain killed Abel but we killed Cain
Photo dead in Xposed Magazine
Song of snitch they're going to find you inside a Toyota
Without eyes and without tongue when we charge you the quota

The dead come and go, PR looks like Vietnam
Things are not as before

My God forgive me, I know I'm doing wrong
These bastards are not going to kill me

The rifles and the glock, the mask and the gloves
The chipete is my 40 and the arm of a demon
Looking for these bastards to make their wake
And we'll see each other in the oven

For death better sentence
Don't want to see how the AK burns
My guns are always full
They search all the countries are looking for the plane to land
We knock down the bush with all its roots, 'ta good

This is music for smuggling of those who are commanding
We have the flow that your bitch likes that's why she keeps calling
Tools that are package all from factories always fuletes
Here it's not the one who snores with fekas is the one who invoices the most and the one who puts in the most
Lick and you'll see the glock on your forehead
The one who hammered them in this hangs the bombaclot
If we catch them they're going to sweat cold
Soldier and prophet of all the slums, with mine

I live in a downpour the donkeys don't get wet in the puddle
The shorts in the mailman's wallets
Nobody knows the recipes only those who move the cauldron
The spoons are the rifles with full magazines
I don't want war I want to make ticket buy ferra clothes
Take a ticket and explore the earth
The TL of the cure I break down expenses of all the invoices
I take and buy myself a mansion on height
Want to party without reasons? then let's party
But pay for all the bullets we spend
Baby you can trust that we will achieve everything we focus on
I invest the profits or I get into a whorehouse and burn them
The privates, prophet and soldier
It's not the same to be blind as to walk life with blindfolded eyes
I want to employ not to be an employee
Life is a hotel and nobody knows the time that is hosted
Stay, have the mai of the kids up to date
Get in the car without the piece and hands on the guide
Sometimes the hidden life tires me
But as long as this is good the word of nobody is going to overshadow mine

The dead come and go, PR looks like Vietnam
Things are not as before
My God forgive me, I know I'm doing wrong
But they are not going to kill me

The rifles and the glock, the mask and the gloves
The chipete is my 40 and the arm of a demon
Looking for these bastards to make their wake
And we'll see each other in the oven

Loyalty fractured, hearts consumed by evil
Whoever wants to take my life, they will have to look for me
They can't fail, aim and shoot
Shoot with everything when you find me because I won't let myself be killed
Who and how many are those who look at me with enemy eyes
Who and how many are those who think they can handle me
(The 40)

And I'm stepping on your step put on clown
And we pass the lungs and the glass a button
And it breaks the winter back the sick
The only one who talks with friends inside hell
In torment act but let go of the story
You're going to run until your ligaments spill
Leave the friction or the pistol the coce
If he catches you on 11th street
Virgil, don't let yourself be seen
The stick is going to bite and lucifer does errands for Anuel
Double K wait to see if I start
And light the stick until his eyes turn white
Cool, the situation gets out of hand
Demons controlling human bodies
If he pulls, it's not them who shoot
Demons don't kill themselves by shooting with bullets
Keep talking and hanging out
In the name of the father of the son and all those who are looking for you
Dividing bands and we are hunting you
You're going to die with the octopuses swimming

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