El Patrón

A soldier fell dead
Our boss was murdered
Who will send us Pablo Escobar
He was the king of cocaine made money from leaves
He was a great man godfather of the poor
He was a general leading warrior Indians
He was the boss, the real badass

To the poor Indians, he bought houses
To the strong Indians, he gave weapons
To the corrupt police, he gave fair bribes
To the foolish judges, he cut their throats

He knew the pleasure business well
The Indians caught it and the pochos sold it
The blacks cooked it and the gangs pushed it
Powder for the rich and rocks for the poor

Damn poor Indians called him the boss
Take me to heaven boss
Money is nothing
My spirit is everything
Boss bless me come save me boss

Mr. Pablo Escobar was a man with vision
The vision to help his own people
Family man and godfather of the poor
He distributed pleasure to the whole world
And now, now people we go to the cemetery to bury the boss
Millions of people will miss him
Who? Who do I tell you? Who will take care of us?
Me
Tell me who
Me The Sorcerer