L-Gante [BZRP Music Sessions #38] [English translation]

Eh

L-Gante, what's up

Bizarrap, this one's hood-rap

(Cumbia 4:20 for these niggas)

If she calls me I'm there in five minutes, 'cause she knows how I am

Her man doesn't do it for her, so she calls me and there I go

She asks me to do everything to her, her, her

While I'm grinding up another bud-bud-bud-bud

And I go there immediately

While she's smoking at the club, she's the best

I give her a kiss so she gets going

Not really knowing why, she's got no competition, eh

Two wine tetrabriks

A half cut bottle and I'm grinding up weed

We're out with Biza in the hood, red wine

The highest, taking a gram, moving the bricks

A lounger and an umbrella

All these fakes, leave them out

Here we don't fuck with those assholes

And at night, in the car, our chains are shining

C'mon, bitch, let's do it 'cause now the toughest one's here

We saw each other on social media, but now we're really doing it

My crew's always ready, homie, 24/7

Where there are no witnesses, I'm always getting it done

(No-no) No beef

Hanging out on that street corner, with the grown ups and the kids

I don't disrespect, don't wrong me

I don't get caught up on that shit, I let them keep walking (keep walking)

If she calls me I'm there in five minutes, 'cause she knows how I am

Her man doesn't do it for her, so she calls me and there I go

She asks me to do everything to her, her, her

While I'm grinding up another bud-bud-bud-bud

And I go there immediately

While she's smoking at the club, she's the best

I give her a kiss so she gets going

Not really knowing why, she's got no competition, eh

Two wine tetrabriks

A half cut bottle and I'm grinding up weed

We're out with Biza in the hood, red wine

The highest, taking a gram, moving the bricks

I fuck up these fakes

Three 5 litre wine bottles on the plastic pool

A grill and eating chitlins under the gazebo

We hustle until we're millionaires, down the streets

I feel like the king

While we're smoking weed, going crazy

Niggas are shirtless, cumbia, ring ting ting

Since we started, we've already ended it, with my team

My hood does the most

Bitches are twerking, shaking that ass

Moving with a fake XT, T

I blow the cap off those cops

Here in the west side we're raw

We're hood so often

We're doing what nobody could

If they talk too much we leave them speechless, I swear

If she calls me I'm there in five minutes, 'cause she knows how I am

Her man doesn't do it for her, so she calls me and there I go

She asks me to do everything to her, her, her

While I'm grinding up another bud-bud-bud-bud

Cu-Cu-Cumbia 4:20 for these niggas

L-Gante, what's up

Hoodrap (Bizarrap), eh

These are not lyrics, they're my routime

From the ratchetest bitch to the finest

From the hood, Argentina

Breaking the stage

Killing the league