La Fokin Moda
Mangao, picteao, mal parao
Tienes los tenis embarrao con caca
Te paraste en un mojon de vaca color espinaca
Y me tiraste pa' batata
Conmigo te cortastes las patas
El Residente Calle 13 contra ataca
De ser un insecto, pasaste a ser rata
Una fukin rata
Barata, puelca, sucia, con garrapatas
Te vo'a sonar comopiñata mejicana
Te vo'a meter con ollas, y con palanganas
Y no te vo'a pedir perdon en mi vida, no me da la gana.
Yo no soy tu pana
Ni aunque me des lana
Yo no soy tu pana
Tu eres un puelco
Tu eres diminuto, tu eres etiercol
Deberias suicidarte y meterte 90 pelco
90 valium, 90 palitroques
Montarte en tu carro, y guiar a 200 millas hasta que
choques.
Quien es este Cabron infeliz?
El Residente tu papa fucking aprendiz
Yo se que yo soy la fuckin moda
Yo se que yo soy la fuckin moda
Tu llegaste tarde, vete pa' la cola
Yo no tuve que hacer fila, lo segui de rola(x2)
Este hombre se cuela
Como cafe de abuela
Tranquilo, a pedio paso
Resbalando con la suela yo avanzo
A ti te salio pato lo de ganso
Y tu me tienes cara de burrito manso
Lo tuyo cansa como doble cancha
Ya estoy cansa'o de salir por la puerta ancha
Yo te como el culo hasta en la revancha
Con mi picheo te blanqueo sin mancha
Con cada palabra
Este hombre te raja el yugular
Desangrao por la vena principal
Y no te va salvar ni tu bodyguard
Estoy es muy musical, pa tu comprender el nivel
Donde yo jangueo, ganguea Lucifer
Yo escribo comiendo, chingo escribiendo
Respiro letras que soplan mi libreta
Y con cojenes practico
Por eso te mastico. No lo digo yo lo dice Puerto Rico
A ti te compongo y te discompongo
Pa tirarme a mi hay que estar en un cabron viaje de hongo.
Tu y tu combo me chupan el morrongo.
Tengo un par de fanaticos que quieren cantar
Y estan locos por pegarse como goma de mascar
Pero les falta practica, una nueva tactica
Son de mentira como cirugia plastica
Si tu no colaboras, te meto los deitos en una licuadora
Por ahi se rumora
De que tu eres el rapero que mas llora
Tus lagrimas las meto en mi cantimplora
Y me las trago
Donde estan los peces?
Que Calle 13 quiere un par de entremeses.
Yo se que yo soy la fuckin moda
Yo se que yo soy la fuckin moda
Tu llegaste tarde, vete pa' la cola
Yo no tuve que hacer fila, lo segui de rola(x2)
The Fucking Fashion
Mangao, painted, badly dressed
You have your sneakers covered in poop
You stepped on a cow dung the color of spinach
And you threw me to the ground
You cut off your legs with me
Residente Calle 13 counterattacks
From being an insect, you became a rat
A fucking rat
Cheap, dirty, with ticks
I'm going to hit you like a Mexican piñata
I'm going to hit you with pots and pans
And I'm not going to apologize in my life, I don't feel like it.
I'm not your buddy
Even if you give me money
I'm not your buddy
You're a pig
You're tiny, you're dung
You should commit suicide and take 90 pills
90 valium, 90 sticks
Get in your car, and drive 200 miles until you
crash.
Who is this miserable bastard?
Residente your fucking apprentice
I know I'm the fucking fashion
I know I'm the fucking fashion
You arrived late, go to the back
I didn't have to wait in line, I followed the flow(x2)
This man sneaks in
Like grandma's coffee
Calmly, at a slow pace
Slipping with the sole I advance
You got a duck instead of a goose
And you look at me like a gentle donkey
Yours tires like a double court
I'm tired of going out the wide door
I eat your ass even in the rematch
With my pitching I whitewash you without a stain
With every word
This man slices your jugular
Bleeding from the main vein
And your bodyguard won't save you
This is very musical, for you to understand the level
Where I hang out, Lucifer gangs
I write while eating, I fuck while writing
I breathe letters that blow my notebook
And with balls I practice
That's why I chew you up. It's not me, Puerto Rico says it
I compose you and decompose you
To throw at me, you have to be on a damn mushroom trip.
You and your crew suck my dick.
I have a couple of fans who want to sing
And are crazy to stick like chewing gum
But they lack practice, a new tactic
They are fake like plastic surgery
If you don't collaborate, I'll put your fingers in a blender
There's a rumor going around
That you're the rapper who cries the most
I put your tears in my canteen
And I swallow them
Where are the fish?
Calle 13 wants a couple of appetizers.
I know I'm the fucking fashion
I know I'm the fucking fashion
You arrived late, go to the back
I didn't have to wait in line, I followed the flow(x2)
Escrita por: Rene Residente