Why is life like this?
I can't understand, no
Life is cruel
How the hell can I understand it
It's always a fucking fight between evil and good
br/>Cantazos after cantazos and I'm still standing
What God wants with me that the devil doesn't allow to be done
Here things are bad down below
While they fight over me I want to sing
To maintain my family and not lose my home
Give the best to Yanisa Nichote and my little Will Frank
Total if the price is to kill to
To survive I will gain loneliness
Fight, charge, chambe the trigger pull
And shoot until the chambe is left behind
One knows the truth
They are worms disguised as brothers
That I have shaken their hands
I also helped to fight
To be able to hit it
Now they want to pay me, wanting to surpass me
At any rate, starting to invent
Things about my life that are not true
This bastard's envy is going to cost him his life
I would give my life to be able to catch him
I am one of the people who doesn't get carried away
br/>Because if I do it like them I'm going to end up
I've spent nights without being able to sleep
To build a record
And give you the best of me
Outselling the one hundred thousand
And when it comes time to balance
Money makes them change
And they report forty thousand
Damn unhappy person
Why steal from me?
Yes I give them the best of me
Their ambition is going to destroy them
As it destroyed 'The Noise'
An empire of singers of the moment
And now there are only the damn memories left You feel the fear
When you talk to me shh-shh pawn
Now release your songs
And talk shit with balls
Mention my name
And things will get worse
br/>I have no balls
I have taken blows and betrayals
I have dodged bullets by running
Among the alleys
This was my childhood
And I am not a gangsta
Don't fuck with me or I'll mess with you
I'm the little kid who sings
And he smoked in the bleachers on the field
With all his buddies
What were they talking about?
Gringo: of the slaughter that did not stop
In my neighborhood
And how the akas sounded
I looked out the window
And I saw the dead as they were
/>They hit him and they hit him
You better convince your
Thugs to throw me away
Mine are on your heels
And they don't let themselves be seen
You're not going to Let's see what you're going to feel
The tissues of your skin will expand
That yours won't even be able to cover
So stay awake and review what they write to you
Because above Baby Rasta no one lives
Because of the cold of the altitude
And if you last, and you have doubts
I still walk with the 40 on my waist

SUBMIT CORRECTIONS