Zorra Enchufada, Vendido Cabrón (part. H0lynaight)

Plugged Bitch, Sold Bastard (feat. H0lynaight)

What's up Toyaquin? I've heard
That you're a sold bastard
Haha, look who's talking, the plugged bitch
Damn it, slut, come on, go suck it

I'm a toyaco
I'm a brat MC, I'll be a rookie
Yes, but with a contract

I can't be a rapper
For having posh hair
For being a mama's boy
A son of a bitch, to put it bluntly

I demand very little of myself
There's little competition
I'm so 'toy that I retouch myself with Photoshop

I don't care if you feel it
It matters where you're from
If success comes, they'll say you do pop, not rap

If I'm like this
I'm not considered an MC, I don't know why
I recorded in Lebu, I killed it
And thousands of Faces have come out now

I'm only in it for fashion, right?
Because it was only 10 years ago when the rap trend started
I appear in Loka, also in Hip Hop Nation

My music doesn't change, nor do I
Just the medium
I don't do drugs, smoke or drink
I'm not your type
I give away the demos

I can't look tough
I'm a toyaco, for being different from the others
For not being just another
For not following your rules

Would your sect crucify me?
Asking for respect and not respecting
Being streetwise isn't spending the day getting high

I don't get into trouble for no reason
I signed with Universal like Nach
But I'm the best-selling

Hypocrites criticize
They try to leave me out
Oh sure, it's because I succeeded because of my image

I'm a toyaca
A brat
If the cheap copy
Of the most hated MC around here

My best time spent on blowjobs
If I didn't suck well, I wouldn't have achieved anything
Come on, (come on)

If all I seek is fame
And money (yes)
That's why I took Porta to bed
Like a whore
Isn't that annoying?

I hope my ironic humor doesn't bother you
It doesn't matter what they call me (crazy)
If I turn you on, don't fool yourself
I use Photoshop

I'm brunette, very short, fat, and my top doesn't fit
I do pop

Let's get to action
I'm such a bitch that I broke his last relationship (how?)
Girls, listen to what I'm telling you
You might like it
To date my boyfriend, I had to threaten him

I've been around longer than copop
I don't know about rap or hip hop
I'm just a groupie
And I can't get acceptance

I'll translate it for you
Nayara feels rap just enough
Ok?
For your taste
We're all toys
Or what?

For you to invent
I'll invent it damn it
What bothers you must be
Not being able to handle a woman

Plugged bitch
Sold bastard
It's on the Internet
There must be a reason
And even if I don't argue
I'm sorry from the heart
I'll tell you, I'm the most rapper
Or not?

Who writes my lyrics according to you?
The rumors to the people, they don't care
I've killed the culture
And I've doctored
The millions of views I've had everywhere

I'm a professional hacker
Looking for an explanation
Without rhyme or reason
To the out of the ordinary

The Underground is a relative term
If it's freedom of expression
Don't judge me by what I write

I listen to other types of music
I didn't think about the sluts according to you
I was just looking for controversy

They say aesthetics
Define the person
Because of my hair, the rappers don't relate to me

Sorry, but I have wet dreams
I don't have a Crew to hang out with another smaller group

I don't follow a leader who tells me what to listen to
They mention me in songs to grab the attention of others

The rappers think I'm dead
From the beatings I've taken
I must be one-armed, lame, deaf, and blind

No fist has touched me
This clarifies it
They've thrown eggs at me
And that's what they lack to show their face

And if I'm a commercial sellout
Whatever you say
I only write to please
Only to four girls

And it's that here the one who deserves the most has more
I'm a shame for hip hop it seems

I'm late, I've put my foot in it again
Excuse me, I was taking pictures of my sneakers
Don't get it wrong
You know me from that Club of yours
I delete bad comments from YouTube

Since elementary school, I've been wide
I carry rap in my pockets
But I'm a brat

Sometimes I wear skinny jeans
And that doesn't represent me
I listen to the 40 rap groups
That were born in the 80s

I'll spend money on lots of joints
Then I'll complain because I don't have recording equipment
And then I'm much worse
But I better shut up because I'm just a girl

And here only the guys are good
I'm the rookie
They've handed me everything on a silver platter

They call me a slut
They say I never comb my hair
I'm the witch before
The princess of the kingdom

Oh no, please, you're keeping me awake
If you want to criticize me, put more effort into it
Seriously, you lack your own judgment
To annoy me
The day you stop talking about me, I'll have to worry

Plugged bitch
Sold bastard
It's on the internet
There must be a reason
And even if I don't argue
I'm sorry from the heart
I'll tell you, I'm the most rapper
Or not?

I'm from the neighborhood, from the street
I don't have a damn penny
But I go to the gym
And I shave my head to a 1

I tattoo everything
I wear two earrings
To look cooler
The million-dollar hip
The wristband, the raw crew

And the taste in the ass

No, that's what a brat is
Alright, oh my, you were right haha