Stop (part. ApacheLa)

Stop, stop, says the wiu-wiu
Alert, hide my stash
Watch out, they want money
They don’t protect the ghetto: They’re the thugs in uniform

Stop, stop, says the wiu-wiu
Alert, hide my stash
Watch out, they want money
They don’t protect the ghetto, they’re the thugs in uniform

To the right, before good afternoon
I immediately notice their education is poor
Before I even speak, they ask for ID
With a nasty look at my black friend and my tattoos

I tell them: I don’t think I’m getting out
I know my rights even if I’m not in a suit
So check my ID, but remember you can’t hold it
While I think: This guy’s a piece of shit

They say they don’t give a damn
Making up laws, they say: Get out of the vehicle
Ridiculous, I repeat that I know my rights while I think
You’re a criminal with a badge on your chest

I hate him, he says to hand over the drinks
Or he’ll plant some stuff since I don’t look like a businessman
I tell him we’re from the hood like him
But he thinks he’s the law when he’s just a public servant

Then I notice it’s like talking to crazy people
They don’t listen, lots of badges, but little brains
Another cop shows up to feel more like a man
But really now they’re doubly ignorant

They can’t stand that people don’t do what they want
And they threaten like a good idiot when they get desperate
(And while the abuse reigns in this scene, look)
Trucks pass with guns and drugs in bags

The officers know it, but they’re filled with cash
While they beat up people like Apa and Canserbero
I know there are exceptions, but
If there’s an honest cop here, throw the first stone, because

Stop, stop, says the wiu-wiu
Alert, hide my stash
Watch out, they want money
They don’t protect the ghetto: They’re the thugs in uniform

Stop, stop, says the wiu-wiu
Alert, hide my stash
Watch out, they want money
They don’t protect the ghetto: They’re the thugs in uniform

If you saw them, when they see us they go crazy
Their eyes pop out like an owl and bam, they lose focus
They search us, they seize us, ask a little bit of everything
Like for example: The weed? (We got it on us)

What are you doing? We’re rap artists
And where do you live? He’s in Maracay and I’m here in Caracas
And where are you headed? We’re going to the studio to record
If we see them again, we’ll stop them again

Don’t get in the car with your flashlight and lights
They’ll never realize where I hid them (no)
They treat us badly, and in front of everyone they show off
That’s why they’re labeled as losers here

Pull out the radio and handcuffs, if you want, go ahead
Make me have a bad time, cop, fine, go ahead and shake me down
Go ahead, with your buddies, shake me down
(But before you take me, at least read me my rights)

They’re worse than the power outages at the worst times
With a face that hasn’t even seen breakfast
Bad vibes that stop us (stop) to always mess with us
(To cut it), to frustrate it (they pay their hate with us)

They’re all pissed off because they didn’t find anything
We didn’t even give them a dime, they couldn’t win
Now everything’s been said, we’re not complicating things
Call these crazies, and now we’re gonna turn it around

Open the sunroof, I can’t hear the wiu-wiu anymore
Let’s keep going in circles like the gurrufío
Through the green paths, to throw off your uncles
If we see a lady pass, we shout: Fiu-fiu
Stop, stop, says the wiu-wiu
Alert, hide my stash
Watch out, they want money
They don’t protect the ghetto: They’re the thugs in uniform

Stop, stop, says the wiu-wiu
Alert, hide my stash
Watch out, they want money
They don’t protect the ghetto, they’re the thugs in uniform