Goat horn and a breastplate
to fight in the war
my new truck and a cooler
there are two plebitas for a peda
and a little pace of that one that disturbs
branded clothing among the cream.
Camoflagiated for the mountains
glasses, Armani and on the road
smoking weed, kush is good
I feel like I'm flying like dust
and I haven't slept, they're shit.
Running slaughterhouse dogs
to get upset for the fray
I don't feel afraid of the shrink
the smokehouse will be the stripe
and I haven't slept, they are shitholes.
Crazy hitman they have nicknamed me
for everything I have done to myself
from pills, pot and parakeet
sometimes one or the other foqqito
I am not a geek nor am I an addict
br/>Crazy Hitman and a little bit more.
I'm worth the sleepless nights
I bring a bag of pure labada
I bring bills, I don't ask for anything
I bring a motita with her carcass
a rifle on my back.
Dens and discos also loqueras
hotel and barbies at every party
Crazy Sicario with my shirt
I'm effective in the tracatera
I kill, I roll up my sleeves to anyone who crosses the line.
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