I am going to the studio, born and raised for this
Rumba performs a sample, I bring the text
Pretext of an album, not a testament
I think, therefore I am, love and temperament
Listen to the man with the mic and shut your mouth
Calmly, I release it without forcing, I don't complicate myself
With original style after years of legislation
This goes for the children of the children of this culture
Don't waste time with those who won't understand a damn thing
It doesn't matter if you vote for the PP or get high on weed
Justify that hate, recognize the work
Prepared for love or war or for when the time comes, here I wait for you

Manners are no longer in fashion
The primary values were lost
I leave landmines in my wake
I wrote my name with a lighter flame on the bathroom ceiling
I don't live off stories, I live off what I tell
Life and its laments, wounds, licks, and encounters
With more desire than gray hair and with the strength of an eternal
Young man to devour the world and its panties
My gesture of disdain is a gesture of "screw them"
I raise my middle finger high, so it's clearly seen
I shout "fuck you" at a good volume
My rap is a dolmen
I am a resounding yes and their rap is an "I don't know"
We rockers rise in PM
The city never sleeps and always bites
Lack of self-esteem and melatonin keep me awake
Sleeping peacefully is for fascists and sex is for winter

The fascists don't rest, hate
Constantly screwing people over, you can see them
Screw them all then
I want to give pleasure
Make you happy and if you're my listener, may you do well
Free your mind, come, feel yourself
Like a puma, high on yagé by accident
My rhyme is a luxury to the ear, all-inclusive
In that sense, call me splendidly generous
The less eccentric I want to be
In this eccentric world, the more you make me seem so
Ours is how it should be done
R.A.P., yours is more of a "who knows"
I prefer to be a poet than a brute
What is written remains forever, that's why like Rebel, I am meticulous
And I feel strange like a thin bishop
Serving a sentence among monkeys, gifted

I come with myself to share, you grab a piece
Because who will do it like this, baby, if I leave
I have dug a hole for a pond
Today I have my moon, her breasts form dunes
I have breakfast kisses on an empty stomach
The city never sleeps, it punishes a lot
You know, I have thrown parties with Fran and Lucho
Love for all of them even if I don't know where they are
And for another hundred brothers with whom I have shared bread

Neither demeanor nor talent, ding, ding
That's how the bell of the calf of the moment sounds
In my sound pen from the rookie to the senior
From the grandfather to the grandson, complete families
I left the legacy in adoption
They turned it into illustrated debauchery in the court of the pharaoh
More pause, without so much anxiety
Even the good gets tiring, and it's not strategy, it's magic

"Violadores del Verso, the world is worse
Since they are not here," shouts a fan and it's true
The experts in the vice of cold glass have returned
They raise the Rap Solo flags to the wind
Owners of the invention, rap as raw feeling
Never threatened by time
I look at the rest and don't even bother, I stay fresh
I stay honest, if you love your children, play them this

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