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Rumor has it we went hunting
That we're masking'
And if we see them they die
So run, if you see us over there
That if we catch them, they're going to die
The colta on top and the combs deflected'
And the crazy r of me leaving them hit'
Chorus 1
Plo, plo
Where we catch them they fell and plo, plo
Where we catch them they died and plo, plo
Where we catch you we give it to you
We don't run or fix
Verse 1
From 6-5 to the nuns, the stick screams and names you
May broko, juanrra, paco and candonga rest in peace
The dead rise between screams and shadows
And they're going to take you straight to hell even if you hide
Bullets and shell casings, lock yourself with latches
They're going to die if you get caught in the street
The drum pal ak and the one of thirty in the 40
And I'm going down with a dreadlock to give you until it twists you
In black with the mask, the short ones are all plastic
It's going to light your forehead and it's not going to be with a lamp
All yours are going to hide
When they put you on the street and they say it was noriel danger
I sail at high tides, which I have left for you
Even the rhythm runs away from me for fear that I will break it
Corkless bats in the veloster
Powerful in cold as in bayamon was the boster
On this battlefield you learn to die standing
Death grabbed me and I ran away
I was disarming' and without the colta, and I went to the neighborhood and rescued it
They seeded me and caught them, going out in geira and killing them
Lower the serene spare rifle and full combs
One more brush and one less brush
That's why I call problems
If I notice you inflating' I deflame them
Cuban women are one kilogram
Chorus 2
Plo, plo
Where we catch them they fell and plo, plo
Where we catch them they died and plo, plo
Where we catch you we give it to you
We don't run or fix
Verse 2
So off-sign and don't even think
They've been with the car for months and they've got to change it
They are burning' and for us easy super located'
Don't hang out with a lot of people because they look tangled up'
In the cabujah, you and the one who looks with me bulla
I'm going to give you a parranda and it's not going to be hallelujah
God forgive me, they make me shrink
Let him change his tone and when he catches them he detonates them
I'm still in the same lao' and fresh I promise
I say where I can sing to see if they get cute
The guy's a millionaire, they say stop those shrinks
And I tell him it's alqaeda against anyone's combo
I have the rudder up, the king lined in microfiber
To tie both your arms I brought the duct tape
And don't spit saliva, if this son-in-law forces me
I'll light it from a pa crash it in a corner
They're well parasites that's why they don't succeed
Bad blood and death is the prognosis
You wa let sow' the dash with the electric
Panic of real g 4 life the postcomicos
Outro
Tell me noriel, we're the new generation
Juanka the problematik, the thickest link in jewelry
Shit, realg4 life, for ever, the real mafia
From the road, hahahaha, baby rasta
The wolves, anonimus the black house
Mera Ganda tell her we're the trap kingpins
And whoever goes against us
He's going to swallow it, you heard, tell me, santana
That we are the only ones of the genre who have things settled
These bastards must, trap capos, synchonic
Tell me what pacho
That out here things are still the same
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