Flores de Antro
Si aun quedan
¿Donde están?
¿Y a que sitios irán?
Las que cerraban los ojos al besar
Antes que el amor se pudiera comprar
Las que se, ganaban, y no eran del patán
Con el carro mas lujoso al que entregan
Su cuerpo por una foto en Instagram
Las que no necesitaban enseñar
Mas que la sonrisa para enamorar
Las mujeres del ayer ¿en donde están?
Cuando las caricias no eran master card
No valen, ni valdrán
Las flores, que se dan
En los antros enviadas de un charlatán
Con olor a cigarrillo y sexo en plan
Me repugnan las princesas engreidas llama atenciones
Con una bacia cabeza escondida bajo extensiones
Busco alguna chica de esas de Adidas y pantalones
Soy mas de interna belleza que alma podrida en tacones
Busco una mujer guerrera no lloronas inmaduras
Que se quiten la corona y se emperchen la armadura
Besos reales de una boca que no me sepa a pintura
Loco esta buscando loca para amarse con locura
¿Donde están esas mujeres?
¿Alguna ejemplar no queda?
Que sea mas de atardeceres que de amanecerse en peda
Que no cuide mas su tonta vanidad que su criterio
Y en vez de tomarse selfies tome las cosas enserio
Que ame mas el brillo en las estrellas
No el olor de un wey con barba
Que se sorprenda con flores
No con autos ni con armas
Que conozca mas autores literarios que a leido
Que a personajes mencionados en corridos
Las mujeres
Seguras de si mismo van sonriendo
Y eso las hace lindas no lo que llevan vistiendo
Contentas con la vida sin morbo ni seduciendo
Las huecas culo arriba si no se les quedan viendo
Por que sus egos se inflan de acuerdo al piropo oyendo
Dependen del que chifla o su autoestima va cayendo
Tan hueca es su cabeza que la quiebran resolviendo
La ecuación que ponerse de un closet que caga atuendos
Prefiero una hermosa sonrisa en un rostro con pecas
Con 5 likes y mas de casa que de discoteca
Hoy busco una mujer no una muñeca que este hueca
Las moscas suelen irse cuando la mie*** se seca
Por que la popular de tetas y trasero enorme
Que se maquilla el rostro hasta dejárselo deforme
Siempre tendrá mil hombres que en la cola se formen
Y es obvio que con un solo novio no estará conforme
Si aun quedan
¿Donde están?
¿Y a que sitios irán?
Las que cerraban los ojos al besar
Antes que el amor se pudiera comprar
Las que se, ganaban, y no eran del patán
Con el carro mas lujoso al que entregan
Su cuerpo por una foto en Instagram
Las que no necesitaban enseñar
Mas que la sonrisa para enamorar
Las mujeres del ayer ¿en donde están?
Cuando las caricias no eran master card
No valen, ni valdrán
Las flores, que se dan
En los antros enviadas de un charlatán
Con olor a cigarrillo y sexo en plan
Club Flowers
If there are still
Where are they?
And where will they go?
Those who closed their eyes when kissing
Before love could be bought
Those who earned it, and were not from the jerk
With the most luxurious car they deliver
Their body for a photo on Instagram
Those who didn't need to show
More than a smile to fall in love
The women of yesterday, where are they?
When caresses weren't a master card
They are not worth, nor will they be worth
The flowers that are given
In clubs sent by a charlatan
With the smell of cigarettes and sex in mind
I'm disgusted by conceited princesses seeking attention
With a fake head hidden under extensions
I'm looking for a girl in Adidas and pants
I'm more about inner beauty than a rotten soul in heels
I'm looking for a warrior woman, not immature crybabies
Who take off their crown and put on their armor
Real kisses from a mouth that doesn't taste like paint
Crazy is looking for crazy to love each other madly
Where are those women?
Is there any exemplary one left?
Who is more about sunsets than partying all night
Who cares more about her judgment than her vanity
And instead of taking selfies, takes things seriously
Who loves the shine in the stars
Not the smell of a guy with a beard
Who is amazed by flowers
Not by cars or weapons
Who knows more literary authors than she has read
Than characters mentioned in songs
Women
Confident in themselves go smiling
And that makes them beautiful, not what they wear
Happy with life without morbidity or seduction
The shallow ones turn their butts up if they're not being watched
Because their egos inflate according to the compliments they hear
They depend on who whistles or their self-esteem goes down
So hollow is their head that they break it solving
The equation of what to wear from a closet full of outfits
I prefer a beautiful smile on a freckled face
With 5 likes and more at home than at the club
Today I'm looking for a woman, not a doll that's hollow
Flies tend to leave when the crap dries up
Because the popular one with huge tits and ass
Who cakes her face until it's deformed
Will always have a thousand men lining up
And it's obvious she won't be satisfied with just one boyfriend
If there are still
Where are they?
And where will they go?
Those who closed their eyes when kissing
Before love could be bought
Those who earned it, and were not from the jerk
With the most luxurious car they deliver
Their body for a photo on Instagram
Those who didn't need to show
More than a smile to fall in love
The women of yesterday, where are they?
When caresses weren't a master card
They are not worth, nor will they be worth
The flowers that are given
In clubs sent by a charlatan
With the smell of cigarettes and sex in mind