Rulo - Rosin

Tell the boss that this kid
Doesn't want to study for a hundred years
Dreams of painting a bathroom
Taking a bath with logs (look)

I show the guard
That I'm a real gentleman
I hide it in my balls
And wink at him with my face
They say that this autumn the pollen will rain
From a madrileño madroño, the blue ones are getting mad
What we were, we still are, I'm done with tolerating
I've been at it for seven and nothing's rising
I light the hash with a fuse and gunpowder

Colder than in the Volga, gloves, leggings, and tracksuit
My word backs me up like Charles Morgan
Respect to the organ player in the subway, the rest is crap
Understand that I’m back from partying
If it bothers you, I’ll put you in your place
I left for the cash, for the score
For the grab, grab and run, 'cause a patrol's on our tail
Pot full of smurfs, I suffer police harassment
Nothing at all, in the park there’s no prison, just inmates
I use the iron and I keep making rosin, what an abuse
I accuse the guy on the second floor of the smell when I pass
Ignoring those who don’t believe, living for the short term
Cousin, fill my glass, 'cause today I’m pouring it like a Russian

I excuse myself for how I was and I don’t complain (I)
I come back without saliva and my pupils like a stoner
They fuck, don’t create intrigue, here in life the bundle was smelled
Giving us a job that you can see coming from afar
I’ll let my kids smoke if I have any and
I’ll tell them: Kid, don’t mess with the white stuff
Banks rob you, keep it all in the mattress
And don’t trust the guy in a suit who’ll cut you in a second
I, who’s causing chaos today, don’t give me the dynamite
They put the beat on and it sounds click clack chi-ca
Here we smoke for free, it costs more what you pick
Call us miners, keloké, digging for silver

Where you saw rats in the sewers, I saw a kelo
What I do is narrate the routine of the insane
I don’t smoke anymore, and the red from the bleach
Thanks to a Moroccan, my way of seeing it is clear
Eh, the typical, more legendary than the kid running for cash
Than Cuba stirring up trouble
Than the fer and making lines
'Cause I already know how the life of a player ends
I saw it in the streetlights, in the eyes of the grandma
Oh, oh, oh, how many of you are worth it and are no longer here
How many of you fuck and annoy
I’m leaving, I’ve already been at it for twenty today
I can’t sleep, buddy
I juggle with a pain, my dark circles are what’s there
Guy, mayday
Secret before grabbing the mic and
Beltran’s recipe hits me like three or four

I dodge the control from the ponies
With turbo against the clock, and in the goal of the charm, eh
Don’t fuck with me, I was cold, my coat was never alone
In Madrid, the summer leaves you fine in the game
I sink it from three, dribbling them since I was a kid
To the greens, to the blues, with the pinks causing havoc