Pa Arriba (part. El Fother)

No food on the table, the fridge was empty
No money in my pocket, bullets in the gun
To the streets, Mexico is the king of drug trafficking
If bullets kill me, I won't be the only one

$500 bills? Nah, come on
Because I don't speak English, but I charge in dollars
Buy them at 17, sell them at 25
I invest in notebooks, I earn from what I write

A drugged God like Diego
The field fills up when I arrive
The hand of God blessed me, I can't deny it
Like Jordan, I always win even though I don't play anymore

And those from my cartel, who are they? They're a lot
From my neighborhood to Santo Domingo
Fother, the Republic and the Mexican
If we don't talk today, we talk even less tomorrow

Bottles in the club, up up
Guns in the shootout, up up
Your hood throwing up, up up
Thugs, the AK-47 up up

Bottles in the club, up up
Guns in the shootout, up up
Your hood throwing up, up up
Thugs, the AK-47 up up (let's go)

We're throwing money around
I can, 'cause I'm the real deal
The b*tches want me even though they all know I'm a bandit
We're with the AK-47s
We'll make your hole
Before killing you, we'll throw you a party first

Come on, dance, Skunk in the air
Just smoking weed, we're always on fire
In the Ferrari at full speed, never leave the gun
Showing my buddy C-Kan the ropes, we're on a roll

Always cash, no credit card
I filled the stash a while ago
We enter in terror
We don't knock, we knock down the door

Come on, dollars, stacks of leather in a line
They all want me to give them
But don't fall in love, girl, charge me
Let's go

Bottles in the club, up up
Guns in the shootout, up up
Your hood throwing up, up up
Thugs, the AK-47 up up

Bottles in the club, up up
Guns in the shootout, up up
Your hood throwing up, up up
Thugs, the AK-47 up up (let's go)