La Cátedra [English translation]

[Verse 1]

Trooko

Son, here comes my criticism

I hit you so hard the first time that on your second try you started talking about politics

After this I'll be put in an asylum and I'm not joking

For spitting on someone who doesn't exist anymore

I'm what you still didn't get

Without a magic wand, just with words, you disappeared

It's not that I'm smart, it's that you're an idiot

That's why those who follow you write Folk with a V

A reguetonero who doesn't know where the horizon lies

And who thinks there are rhinos on Mt. Everest

You're such an animal that you don't yet know

That six by eight are the times in a beat

You don't know what's right or left

And you think that in Latin America there are only indians with arrows

You're tiny like a gland

Pitching at you is lower than pitching at a vedette in a show

I keep losing my time saying it clear

Pitching at a reguetonero who's got two buttcheeks on his face

Your only achievement in your life

Were 3 million memes mocking you in less than a minute

A man filled with illusions

I find it sweet that you put your email adress on your social networks to get contracts

Eleven years in prison creating expectations everywhere

And an empty stadium with gifted tickets

I'm doing stadiums internationally

July 17 in Mexico, national auditorium

And you are in sad discos

Where women get in for free and beer is given out

You've got four fans, I've got thousands

Ask Baby Rasta, who saw me performing in Chile

And we rose our glasses filled with zapaca after the little concert

And even though he vowed for you, if he wants to drink rum I'll invite him

I turn you into a molecule when I stand like a caterpillar

With my rhymes you get lost with a compass

In a consonant, chronical, way

So the phonems match after tonical vocals

You being better that me, that's just a platonic idea

I make you cry without singing blues or playing the harmonica

I translate it to your brain of short understanding

Something simple... I'm fast and you're slow (Switch it)

This isn't even a fight

I'm like you grandma, hitting you with the belt

In this genre I'm fucking rock-n-roll

I shine without the sun, without ArmorAll, without being patent leather

I'm the light of the lantern

A flame of fire and alcohol

I'm your headache without paracetamol

I'm the one who revived you again

The one who taught you to write

I'm your mom and dad without having to give birth to you

I'm the one who will make you be religious

I'm what drove over you like a truck

The hurricane the metereologist couldn't predict

I'm everything the psychologist will charge you

What you don't see coming

I'm the knockout I gave you

I'm all Puertoricans making fun of you

And the one who makes them walk in a straight line

I'm Muhmmas Ali breaking your face in Manila

[Chorus]

I pulled you out of your tomb, I pulled you out of the mausoleum

Get the shovel, the dirt and the rum

Bring colorful flowers

For we'll bury you irremediably and without pastors today

I pulled you out of your tomb, I pulled you out of the mausoleum

Get the shovel, the dirt and the rum

Bring colorful flowers

For we'll bury you irremediably and without pastors today

(Get the shovel, the dirt and the rum)

(Get the shovel, the dirt and the rum)

(Get the shovel, the dirt and the rum)

(Get the shovel, the dirt and the rum)

[Verse 2]

Never before seen in a battle

The first rapper who cries because he says I crossed the line

As a child I was diagnosed with autism

And while I fall asleep I write rhymes that are cool with any type of rythm

And I was pitched at even by a blind, unseeing person

Who raps better than you, with more clever rhymes

And if I was wrong about stereotypes

Now I'm working with the paraolympics comitee

But what are you doing, mate?

If you are that much of a millionaire, I invite you to donate your money

But you can't even afford a Nissan

First pay your 100 dollar debt with Angel Pagán

If I was in your ship, castaway

I have been told that you can't pay your own drinks at the bar

And there's nothing wrong with not having money

But you say you sell beef, but what you bring is canned meat

The fantasy of showing off the millions that you don't have

Is the cause for teens with guns to rob you

You promote the lie, I promote pure reality

In an inequal world, in which there are trash-eating children

But what else can one expect from a guy like you?

Wearing an El Chapo and a Pablo Escobar shirt

I'm neither a communist, not a socialist or capitalist

I believe in inventing something new, you better call me an idealist

I believe in equal infinite oportunities

I believe that education, health and food should be free

I believe that the one who works more should earn more

But I also believe in sharing what I have with others

But you don't share, the only thing you share is my wealth

The ass-kicking I gave you and to the ones who vowed for you

I believe in Rafael Hernandez, who put those who believe in statehood to sing

The sons of liberty call you precious

Every day something is learned

Even Marc Anthony sings it and he doesn't even get it

I have taken pictures with important people

Even if they don't think like I do, they're interesting

My man, you have to learn the difference

Between knowing and supporting something

I believe in rapping with a critical eye

I believe in the people over any politician

But you believe in pyramids so rich people are comfortable

All poor people have to be uncomfortable

And you didn't even notice we got robbed

Because of the capitalism that you defended with gold chains they lended you

Unknowingly you support dictatorships that made people disappear

Just because they thought differently

You can use our neighbor island as a reference

And the murderer Rafael Trujillo in Dominicana

You can take Pinochet and Videla as examples

Go to Buenos Aires and talk to the grandmas in Plaza de Mayo

I believe in Serrat, Silvio Rodriguez, Violeta Parra, Rubén Blades, León Gleco, Victor Jara and his guitar

And how Ali says from the open sky

Those who die for life can't be called dead

The history class is over, here come my final verses

We start with the kindergarden with the vocals

The Resi rhymes with the A, today your dad will eat you

And leave your rectum more open than the Panama Canal

Your tricky lyrics will end up hidden under mom's sofa

I put reguetoneros like you to sing little Mana songs

They're not true, but I'm not finished, here comes Residente with the E

You and your ganster baby chimpanzee comitee make me coffee

I make you puree since I started I never stopped, I kicked the vocals

When I rapped without using my feet because when I rap I'm like Maradona with Pele

And here I'm back, I never went away, I kept on rhyming with the I

I broke you, you're stiller than a maniquin, I already ate your vocals

I'm an MC, a surgeon of the verse who operates without a scalpel

Your wild pig body parts I handed around while I drank a daiquiri

No, no, no, the Resi isn't finished, he goes on with the O

He took you, he nailed you, he fucked you, he got you, he dominated you

The Resi knocked him out, he killed him, he revived him and again he buried him

I got them thinking: be it the mother who gave birth to them!

I know who I am, I'm the one that got you out of the igloo, but tell me, who are you

You are the frontman who went to war and never returned, like Mambru

In the list of the best rhymers you don't show up

Residente schooled you on endings with U

With this one I shoot at you, I retire you

I take your breath away with a single sigh

I squish you and I pitch at you, I don't twist or turn

Your rhymes are blood and I'm a vampire

I'm a poet from another planet

And my style has no labels

My full lyrics have got a concrete goal, to educate illiterate people

Here I bring the alphabet like a machine gun

Beheading words like the Zetas

I hit them like a tambourine

I eat them as if they were beef

With a filled belly up to the boobs

Because my notebook will never do a diet

When Residente squeezes everyone packs their bags

And they end up pedalling without a bike

You played the roulette and ended up in a ditch

And for abusing of you, animal, now PETA os looking for me

I'm a killer tornado, on my way not even fortune tellers see me

And I fulminate them when I rhyme

On low fire I cook them with cucumber, cumin, bacon and blood from their intestines and I never finish

Because my verses reproduce like chinese people

With the courage of the savage octane that I brought in my language

I take them on my trip without a ticket and without paying a toll

Without a landing in my carriage they fly, looking at the landscape

When the message rollerblades without over this skating rink

In the middle of a violent storm the rap ambiance get heated

With a thousand five hundred and ninety words I'm on my way to a thousand seven hundred

I already lost count and my belly is still hungry

In spanish rapping Residente represents

I'm spicy without hot pepper, refreshing like mint

I got the Real Academia as a servant

More tools than a repairman, this hispanic rapper

Leaves the british MCs in a state of panic

Like Harry Shotta, without a boot, without a door and without a hood

Take note, my rhymes never run out because they float

On the sea of your broken neurons like a seagull

The one who explodes your head with a blow that sprouts in your defeat

Idiots like you, I got them like pets

I make them pay the fee

A broke dictionary

And I'm not hurt because everything they throw at me bounces like a ball

I'm the singer, lover of consonant rhymes

The commandant is here, sit down, my students

Like Willie Mays, giant, brilliant like a diamond

I feed them even if the restaurant is closed

Fighting without gloves against my own trajectory

MCs don't see me coming even if they eat carrots

I'm the master of notory oratory and I put the glory

And the victory to having sex to make history

This song rolls on its own

And it also flies consoles

If you want more, I've got another pot on the stove

When they see me surfing over the waves

They end up going crazy, trying to bite their own tail

With my squared, closed, unprepared head's entry

And every thrown rhyme is an exploded grenade

I had the alphabet and all of its letter kidnapped

Working like a thousand house maids

After giving you bitchslaps with kicks, frying you like an empanada

Now I'm backing up and you're still nothing

This is the end of the novel against the merengue dancer

Who uses glittered shoes and clothes with sequins

I have to stop, if I don't I will lose control

From eating that much junk rapper, my cholesterol levels have risen

[Outro]

Alright, I'll stop already. A thousand nine hundred words, this is a new record, my people. Hey, the only ones who can pitch at me and nail me really hard are my brother Gabriel and my wife, if she wrote a few rhymes she would nail me. But no one else does.

I want to apologize to the people from my record label. Anir, excuse me for having done this song. I know you told me to not get into rap battles. To Afo, I'm really sorry. Pepo, my bad. I know we have the tour and a bunch of things going on, my bad, pero this amuses me. I think I will open up a rehabilitation college for reguetoneros who don't know how to write. Hey, and my bad, Elias, I know you told me to now lower my level, but it's just too easy. Forgive me, Polo, also sorry.

Fuckers, you can't handle me, get out of here. Second round my balls. Fucker, I nailed you from the beginning. It's just that I had a free day and I did this, take it easy.

Trujillo alto in the house

Carraizo in the house

La Perla in the house

La Barriada Morales in the house

El Sartén in the house

Puerto Rico in the house

I'll see you in december, fuckers

Hey Trooko