Príncipe de Capitales (part. Richie Rasheed)

Watching Manzanares from Soto, snapshot, tastes like coconut
The guards gave me my first photo shoot
They can’t handle the pressure, I don’t even feel it, full throttle
And if she’s flying high, I’m the one in control

It’s another, ace, payments, bankruptcy
I fit in like a glove, they’re here but it doesn’t show (not at all)
Last play, I’m not passing the ball
Confidence and talent overflowing in my kicks (ten)

An axe, dirty kicks, they succeed and get hooked
Ta-da, Jackie Chan rolls in on a truck and a boat
Bitch, peel me some shrimp
I know I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for the fame

I take advantage, I’m taking advantage, we all lose
Nothing good, I’ve seen the devil’s ears
Fearless, I’m grabbing the devil by the horns
The Maltese Falcon arrives, crows are flying

Happy, a little poorer but free
I’ll pay anything but time
My old man’s the best, I’ve taken him as my example
I’m like an indoor player under the lights, well covered

Any rooster sings in its coop, fool
I sing in mine, in yours, and in everyone’s
One more step and I’ll vaporize you, sponsored by Marlboro
I’ll fill the wall with pomodoro

In Tangier, I don’t even carry a card, don’t even talk to me
My brother’s got my back, he looks like Ray Allen (three)
Glares that cut like radial saws
I’m going from Madrid to Rabat, prince of capitals

I’m going from Madrid to Rabat, prince of capitals
I’m going from Madrid to Rabat, prince of capitals
I’m going from Madrid to Rabat

Could be, hamdullah, I don’t understand half the phrases
In a rage, I’m Topuria with a taser
At the concert, it’s a mess, I like habibi more than two aces
I’m taking it fast before they make it

Damn, I can’t stand you, sorry for so much
When I’m done, I close doors, don’t leave any contacts (screw it)
Star or ruin, Policarpo, to the post-birth street
From smoking so many blunts, I look like a Tim Burton character

The lie is always prettier
Today it smells like jasmine, my mouth tastes like harira
I go down to Casablanca, I pick her up in Asilah
Always protected, bismillah

No candles and no grandmas
Not a single one from the betting pool has stayed
I’ve got skin like Kevlar, the perfect specimen, they watch me
I stayed behind the glass, no one gets in

Now Marlboro at 3.50, demands and supply
Pull the blanket to see what you find
Everything’s for sale here, even Kenda’s rap
It won’t stop being true just because it offends them.