500 Balazos
Calibre 50
500 Shots
500 Shots, automatic weapons
They carried bulletproof vests, the bursts of horn
The high calibers, knocking down civilians
Also the same way
Anti-armor, expanding bullets
Two or three bazookas and grenade launchers
Obregon from Sonora really thought he was in Iraq
Dressed in black, hooded
Very well trained, as they were soldiers
The mafia pays them, and they shoot
They can't fail
(Here's a greeting to the buddy and all his people, give it your all, folks)
Boys from the start, they know the danger
They are well seasoned, they became shooters
They knock down anyone who gets in their way
If they're lucky
Now the government doesn't want to face them
If they hear shots, they run the other way
For what they're paid, they don't think twice
Risking their lives
Engines roar, here come the commandos
Sweeping the city, and picking up
Business resolved, boss satisfied
Time to celebrate
