It could have been out of fear
There's still doubt about what they did
And if Rosita answered to the fire

Rosario was the name of the man who left
And he dressed in black like the panther
That he always carried on his waist

It was his faithful companion
The panther had pink grips

I saw it happen
Lucky that I lived to tell the tale
He started hanging with gangs at twelve

He was tough with tops, no one could beat him
He knocked out several faces
He jumped out of school for the last time

He said, "I'm not going to get rich
Working from 8 to 5"

On that boulevard, the Nissan was saved
He shot to finish it off, Monserrat was there
Rosario got down, pulling out the Pathfinder

So those cowards wouldn't hurt
His little girl

There was a hail of bullets
The panther went down in a bad way
Today he rests in Jardines del Humaya

A mother and his wife pray for him
A little girl cries looking at his picture
"Daddy, I know you hear me, I'm your baby"

Forty bullets were nothing
Compared to the fear he carried

He lived life his own way, the way he liked it
Two days before his death, he celebrated his birthday
And he cheerfully said while toasting

"I ask life for forgiveness
If I left without warning"

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