Mostazeros
Mostazeros, mostazeros, son maricones vestidos de caballeros
Mostazeros, mostazeros, son culos blancos en busca de pistoleros
De los mostazeros, cuídate
Muy de mañana sale al trabajo y sube a su carro
Muy bien vestido y engominado prende un cigarro
Aprieta fondo y pasa rajao sobre el cemento
Dejando huellas sobre las grietas del pavimento
A 9 cuadras detiene el auto de forma extraña
Pinta sus labios y se echa rimer en las pestañas
De su guantera saca un perfume de puta fina
Y dice: Ay, menos mal que no me olvidé de la vaselina
Del edificio que estaba al frente se acerca un hombre
Lentes oscuros y con un cuerpo de mastodonte
Medio molesto golpea el vidrio polarizado
Haciendo señas que desactive el centralizado
Cuando la guacha bajó del auto dijo: Qué pasó?
Y el manso cuerpo grito: Te odio, cuando te atrasas
Llevo una hora como weona aquí esperando, me habría ido pero por suerte te sigo amando
Mostazeros, mostazeros, son maricones vestidos de caballeros
Mostazeros, mostazeros, son culos blancos en busca de pistoleros
De los mostazeros, cuidate
Justo a las 9 entraron juntos en un café
Desayunaron entre la gente, tomaron té
Pasaron piola, como si nada, eran dos hombres
Muy elegantes pero no puedo decir sus nombres
Muy apurado uno de ellos pagó la cuenta
Y se adentraron en un motel que estaba a la vuelta
Ya no resisto Pedrito Artuto ya no doy más
Y yo tampoco César Antonio voy a acabar
De pronto un ruido era un sonido muy peculiar
Era la esposa de uno de ellos al celular
Oye querido quiero saber si vas almorzar conmigo
No, no mijita tengo un negocio que concretar
Cuando cortó, se agarraron firme se hicieron tira
En ese instante sonó la puerta ¿ay quién sería?
Muy buenos días, los piscos sour son de la casa, te fijas tú
Gonzalo Rey trabajas aquí, puta pasa pasaaa
Mostazeros, mostazeros, son maricones vestidos de caballeros
Mostazeros, mostazeros, son culos blancos en busca de pistoleros
De los mostazeros, cuídate
Mustards
Mustards, mustards, they are faggots dressed as gentlemen
Mustards, mustards, they are white asses looking for gunmen
Beware of mustard growers
Very early in the morning he leaves for work and gets in his car
Very well dressed and slicked back, he lights a cigarette
Press the bottom and go through the cement
Leaving footprints on the cracks in the pavement
9 blocks away he stops the car in a strange way
She paints her lips and puts mascara on her eyelashes
From his glove compartment he takes out a fine whore's perfume
And he says: Oh, thank goodness I didn't forget the Vaseline
A man approaches from the building in front
Dark glasses and a mastodon body
Half annoyed, he hits the tinted glass
Signaling to deactivate the centralized
When the guacha got out of the car she said: What happened?
And the gentle body cried: I hate you, when you are late
I've been waiting here like an idiot for an hour, I would have left but luckily I still love you
Mustards, mustards, they are faggots dressed as gentlemen
Mustards, mustards, they are white asses looking for gunmen
Beware of the mustard growers
At exactly 9 o'clock they entered a café together
They had breakfast among the people, drank tea
They passed by unnoticed, as if nothing had happened, they were two men
Very elegant but I can't say their names
In a hurry, one of them paid the bill
And they went into a motel that was around the corner
I can't take it anymore, Pedrito Artuto, I can't take it anymore
And I, César Antonio, am not going to finish either
Suddenly a noise was a very peculiar sound
It was the wife of one of them on the cell phone
Hey dear, I want to know if you're going to have lunch with me
No, no, my dear, I have a business to complete
When he cut, they held on tight and became a strip
At that moment the door rang. Oh, who could it be?
Good morning, the pisco sours are on the house, you see
Gonzalo Rey you work here, bitch come in come in
Mustards, mustards, they are faggots dressed as gentlemen
Mustards, mustards, they are white asses looking for gunmen
Beware of mustard growers