Estilo Libre (part. Big Daddy Kane y Vico C)
Sí, sí, sí
Uno, do', tre' como one, two, three
Como Rondi MC, in the place to be
No estoy en mi peak, pero en este beat, yo
Sueno más real que el Madrid
Soltando el clip llegó Billy The Kid
Disparando más fuego que Miami Heats
Si no sabes bailar, haz como Bruce Lee y déjate llevar por el kick
Este beat es como el perico, se les mete hasta por la nariz
Hasta los haters lo tienen en repeat
No lo puedes parar de comer, como tortilla chips
Soy la pólvora del petardo, le doy dos taza' al que no quiere caldo
Estos bastardo' me ven pasar y se vuelven más cristiano' que Ronaldo
Soy el killa que los aniquila fluyendo por el patrón como la tequila cuando se enchila
Mis tilas, no me ven ni las pupila'
Y se pierden como boy scouts sin mochila
Estilo libre como Holiday, conmigo la gravedad no tiene ley
Cuando mi verso grafitea todo el highway
Soy el rey escupiendo spray, soy un MC en cualquier formato
Mi flow tiene pintura de aerosol en los zapato'
Y en un rato como pelea matrimonial DJ Craze va a romper los plato'
Llegó el killa, ki-killa, killa
Big-Big-Big Daddy Kane's about to come with it
Straight from them Brooklyn streets where they can see me at
Where it's never easy at, that's the borough we be at
Real hitters keep the strap for any type of beef or spat
Make your head tilt back like Adebisi hat
That's where we gon' leave you at, make 'em take a leaky nap
Any time that we attack, you don't want a piece of that
That thug mentality can be an aphrodisiac
But you're doing too much, homie, please relax
Don't make this animal damage you, and I will banish you
Handle you flammable like a match'll do a candle do
With words, I be a man of fuel
And if you plan to do any unamiable act anew
Against the intangible
You must be sniffing albino
Realize I'm a G, you just I Joe
Realize that's might, but not dyno'
Sommelier, not wino
Straight from them Brooklyn streets
Realize I'm a G
I rip the mic—, I rip the mic—, I rip the microphone and leave it scarred
Tira la mano to the ella, que de flow sistic tengo una paella
Si tú tira' reggaeton-pop, popcorn, comelón, con este juntecito te estrella'
Sacaste colmillo, te puse una mella
Rango bajito, no me puede' hacer querella'
Si no puede con esa camella, pasa la botella
Que así mareaíto' mi pick-up te atropella
Tú con letra' mística' y yo con la analítica
Vamo' a los hogare' a chequear las estadística'
Va' a ver lo que deja tu sexología rítmica
Y vamo' a ver si aguanta' la ráfaga de punches mi crítica
Y bum, además, dime quién ere' tú
Ronca' de Beretta y no le mete' ni al kung-fu
Trucutú, a ese truco hace mucho chanchú
Tú le mete' en lo oscuro y yo reparto la lu'
Sin usar la vacunita de McGuire
Te tiro curva' y no la ven ni los empire
Flecha con fire
Que te queme el casco y no te calma' ni tomando medio pote de las Bayer
Leanback, cómo mato en el track
De la mata soy el matatán, matatrack
Matadore' de las news, me las como de snack
A lo 2Pac, mato liga desde wayback
Maté en la calle ante' que en la calle se fumara crack
Matadero en mi área cuando tiro boombap
Mato en tarima y ring-can como maniac
Mato más ofensiva que un tapón del Shaq
Mato con filosofía del breezy, take it easy
Que tú tira' más suave que una Missy
Te paseo y queda' bien dizzy
Con el verdadero Big Daddy 'tamo aquí bien busy
Soy el matatán, matatrack
Matadero en mi área cuando tiro boombap
Soy el matatán, matatrack
Matadero en mi área cuando tiro boombap
Soy el matatán, matatrack
Matadero en mi área cuando tiro boombap
Cuando tiro—
Cuando ti-ti-tiro
Ti-ti-ti-ti-tiro boombap
Freestyle (feat. Big Daddy Kane and Vico C)
Yes, yes, yes
One, two, three like one, two, three
Like Rondi MC, in the place to be
I'm not at my peak, but on this beat, I
Sound more real than Madrid
Releasing the clip, here comes Billy The Kid
Shooting more fire than Miami Heats
If you can't dance, do like Bruce Lee and let yourself be carried away by the kick
This beat is like cocaine, it gets into your system through your nose
Even the haters have it on repeat
You can't stop eating it, like tortilla chips
I'm the gunpowder of the firecracker, I give two cups to the one who doesn't want broth
These bastards see me pass by and become more Christian than Ronaldo
I'm the killer that annihilates flowing through the pattern like tequila when it's spicy
My lines, they don't even see my pupils
And they get lost like boy scouts without a backpack
Freestyle like Holiday, with me gravity has no law
When my verse graffitis the whole highway
I'm the king spitting spray, I'm an MC in any format
My flow has spray paint on the shoes
And in a moment like a marital fight DJ Craze is going to break the dishes
The killer has arrived, ki-ki-killer, killer
Big-Big-Big Daddy Kane's about to come with it
Straight from them Brooklyn streets where they can see me at
Where it's never easy at, that's the borough we be at
Real hitters keep the strap for any type of beef or spat
Make your head tilt back like Adebisi hat
That's where we gon' leave you at, make 'em take a leaky nap
Any time that we attack, you don't want a piece of that
That thug mentality can be an aphrodisiac
But you're doing too much, homie, please relax
Don't make this animal damage you, and I will banish you
Handle you flammable like a match'll do a candle do
With words, I be a man of fuel
And if you plan to do any unamiable act anew
Against the intangible
You must be sniffing albino
Realize I'm a G, you just I Joe
Realize that's might, but not dyno'
Sommelier, not wino
Straight from them Brooklyn streets
Realize I'm a G
I rip the mic—, I rip the mic—, I rip the microphone and leave it scarred
Throw your hand to the sky, because I have a paella of sistic flow
If you throw reggaeton-pop, popcorn, eater, with this collaboration you crash
You showed your fangs, I put a notch
Low rank, you can't sue me
If you can't handle that camel, pass the bottle
So dizzy my pick-up runs you over
You with mystical lyrics and me with the analytical
Let's go home to check the statistics
You'll see what your rhythmic sexology leaves
And let's see if you can withstand the barrage of punches my critique
And boom, also, tell me who you are
Growling with Beretta and can't even hit kung-fu
Trucutú, that trick has been a long time piggy
You put it in the dark and I spread the light
Without using McGuire's little vaccine
I throw curves and not even the empire sees them
Arrow with fire
Let your helmet burn and you won't calm down even by taking half a pot of Bayer
Leanback, how I kill on the track
I'm the killer of the mata, matatrack
News killers, I eat them as snacks
Like 2Pac, I kill leagues from wayback
I killed in the street before crack was smoked in the street
Slaughterhouse in my area when I throw boombap
I kill on stage and ring-can like a maniac
I kill more offensively than a Shaq block
I kill with breezy philosophy, take it easy
You throw softer than a Missy
I walk you and you end up dizzy
With the real Big Daddy we're here very busy
I'm the mata-tan, matatrack
Slaughterhouse in my area when I throw boombap
I'm the mata-tan, matatrack
Slaughterhouse in my area when I throw boombap
I'm the mata-tan, matatrack
Slaughterhouse in my area when I throw boombap
When I throw—
When I-I-I throw
I-I-I-I-I throw boombap