Ropa Trucha (part. DT.Bilardo y Eric Santana)

Ghetto dude, fake clothes
I’m always smoking under the hood
We send the poodles back to the kennel
In your neighborhood, they say you’re soft, you’re missing a lot

I send cumbia, I send fruit
I’m with your girl, she’s coughing and coughing
Real shady, on the road
Go to sleep, loser, who even knows you?
Ghetto guy with the slang you learn in the hood
My crew is really tough, not like the others
We work hard and now we’re millionaires
Pure sacrifice, no pretending to be a hitman
Always sweet, never artificial
Bro, smooth cumbia for the criminals
I’m still the same as before
(And let the fools tell the story)

Ghetto dude, fake clothes
I’m always smoking under the hood
We send the poodles back to the kennel
In your neighborhood, they say you’re soft, you’re missing a lot

Tell me where they are
'Cause I’m stuck like Poxiran
If we go in, we go in hard
Cool, with the guys who get their hands dirty
Here we’re pure like highland dust
I don’t deal with losers
I’m with my crew, bringing in some serious looks
Hands up or we’ll crack your skull (pew, pew, pew)
Come to the corner at night, a monster will come out
Come to the corner at night and I won’t know you
And that’s how we do it around here
All my homies are wild and lazy
We keep pushing forward
Always strumming but quiet (shh)

Ghetto dude, fake clothes
I’m always smoking under the hood
We send the poodles back to the kennel (eh)
In your neighborhood, they say you’re soft, you’re missing a lot

DT. Bilardo (ah, now we’re talking)
Eh, Eric Santana
Maxi El Brother, for
One Blood Music
Kriterio Music
Ghetto dude, fake clothes