I know my rhymes sometimes cause disgust
When my neurons get running
To the point I even scare myself
My answers can be so aggressive
To the point that the lyrics run me off
Because they're scared I wrote them.
I don't have rifles to kill you
Just enough with the dancefloor.
I convert lyrics into ideas like an illusionist
In one line I kill you, break you, hurt you
And in the next I revive you when I mention you.
This is part of my art
That everybody knows
That these rhymes are for you without having to mention you
I don't do it to avoid the conflict
I do it so I don't make you famous
In countries where nobody knows you.
After seeing how wars and guerrillas work
Do you think I'm going to be scared of your gang?
Shoot whenever you want to little thug rapper,
Here it's not the biggest thug that wins,
The winner is the wittiest.
In you're mind you're a "narco"
Wanted by the police
And your pistols are like the unicorns -
Fantasties.
There's no problem having
imaginary enemies
But there is when the little kids
Think you're a hitman
You haven't lived three shits of difficulty in your life
You've never lacked for education
You've never lacked for food
If the people in Congo
Had had your opportunities
They'd be graduating from the best universities.
If I take you on a tour to Central Africa
After seeing the war you'd come out singing Christian lyrics
There your little rapper clothes,
Baseball hat, and your thug chain
Will melt away in the sun
Or I'll take you Syria
So you can feel the bombings
And you see how they leave little kids without arms
What are you gonna do when your son
Is hit at a club
Gracelessly with an AK
They blow up his head
Or they erase the face of your brother
In a violent way
Or that they clean your sweetheart
With a snub-nose and a .40
You're an idiot, asshole, rapping
About blowing out brains
In a country where they'll
Kill you for a penny
I'm not a saint when I rap
Much less a gentleman
In one moment of rhyming
I hang 10 marines
But in this case it's different inciting disorder
Because when tyranny is law
Revolution is order.
Inside, Inside
Well inside, I leave it inside you.
You wanna put me down? Here's a few puzzles for you:
I'm scared of cockroaches
And lizards
They haven't played me for years
On the fucking radio in Puerto Rico
I've release five albums
And I'm still not rich.
Some call me a communist
One hundred percent radical (demagog)
The ultra right hates me
The ultra left too
My sexual performance
Is on the ground
After laughing at bald people
I'm losing my hair
I called the the governor a son of a bitch
And even though he deserved it
Inside I regretted it
And I didn't say it until right now.
Before understanding inequality
between people
I bought a used Maserati
That doesn't work now.
My credit is fucked
They won't even sell me a coffee
So to make another monthly payment
I prefer going on foot.
I'm like the boxers
I mismanage my money
I invest everything in my career
Because art comes first.
I'm the slowest of my family
I'm not brilliant.
I fight for education
And I was never a good student
I've got a phobia of airplanes
I like politics
Even though I say I don't care about them,
My critics hurt me.
My best friend
Was killed in a barracks
I've got a lot to write
And not much paper
My honesty is transparent
You can see inside me
With just looking at my face
You can try to knock me
And make an effort
Even though to keep being honest
I'm the best at that.
Inside, Inside
Well inside, I leave it inside you.