Chivatos
Tú ya sabe' que estoy pa’ lo' mío'
Tú ya sabe’, primo, está prendí'o
Con el Luca Loko vamo' al lío
Los vamo' a poner tiritando de frío
Y wouh, para eso (para eso)
No veas con los chivatos comiendo el queso
Esto está sucio y acabo preso (acabo preso)
Y esto es pa' mis puro', pa' mis duro’ de hueso
Wouh, para eso, a lo estilo Tarantino aka Al Pacino
Llegan los paquete’ por un submarino
No somos de hablar, ya tú sabes' lo que digo
No aparezcas por aquí sin besarme el anillo
Están hablando demasia’o y no me conocen
Vamos con la cara tapá' y pegando voce'
Salimo' del callejón, evita rocе’
Mala hierba nunca muere, no mе provoque'
La calle llora, eh
Quiere estar conmigo, no quiere estar sola
Me dijo a solas
Que ahora soy su bandolero con cuchillo y pistola
La calle llora, eh
Quiere estar conmigo, no quiere estar sola
Me dijo a solas
Que ahora soy su bandolero con cuchillo y—
Wouh, para eso (para eso)
No veas con los chivatos comiendo el queso
Esto está sucio y acabo preso (acabo preso)
Y esto es pa' mis puro', pa' mis duro' de hueso
Wouh, para eso (para eso)
No veas con los chivatos comiendo el queso
Esto está sucio y acabo preso (acabo preso)
Y esto es pa' mis puro', pa' mis duro' de hueso
Oh-oh, oh
Oh, oh-oh, oh
Oh-oh, oh
Wouh, para eso
No veas con los chivatos comiendo el queso
Esto está sucio y acabo preso
Y esto es pa' mis puro', pa' mis duro' de hueso
Wouh
Snitches
You already know I'm for my own
You already know, cousin, it's lit
With Luca Loko we're going to the task
We're going to make them shiver from the cold
And wouh, for that (for that)
Don't mess with the snitches eating the cheese
This is dirty and I end up in jail (end up in jail)
And this is for my real ones, for my tough ones
Wouh, for that, in Tarantino style aka Al Pacino
The packages arrive by submarine
We're not ones to talk, you already know what I mean
Don't show up here without kissing my ring
They're talking too much and they don't know me
We go with our faces covered and raising our voices
We leave the alley, avoiding gunshots
Weed never dies, don't provoke me
The street cries, eh
It wants to be with me, it doesn't want to be alone
It told me in private
That now I'm its bandit with knife and gun
The street cries, eh
It wants to be with me, it doesn't want to be alone
It told me in private
That now I'm its bandit with knife and—
Wouh, for that (for that)
Don't mess with the snitches eating the cheese
This is dirty and I end up in jail (end up in jail)
And this is for my real ones, for my tough ones
Wouh, for that (for that)
Don't mess with the snitches eating the cheese
This is dirty and I end up in jail (end up in jail)
And this is for my real ones, for my tough ones
Oh-oh, oh
Oh, oh-oh, oh
Oh-oh, oh
Wouh, for that
Don't mess with the snitches eating the cheese
This is dirty and I end up in jail
And this is for my real ones, for my tough ones
Wouh