Pixelados (part. Peso Pluma)

Bye!

My Holy Death protects me
And here I am always forging with my people
A rooster of poison to light up here
To blow smoke to clear my mind

With my friends I'm rolling
I light a blunt and then hit a bong
The buddies arrive with a Sweiser in hand
They look loaded with buba

And sometimes in black, also pixelated
And I'm always watching them
And sometimes armed and well equipped
Short guns and radio in hand

And they always carry it slung with grenade launchers
And with a tostonazo
I like the jewels that weigh a kilo
With big diamonds and crushed gold

And if they see me patrolling at the checkpoint
I always walk changed
With red soles, firm step forward
A big Rolex shines here in my hand
I'll always be out there closing deals

And Pure War Corridos, Old Man, Trakas

I always carry the whole team
With knee pads and elbow pads
With tactical Timberland and Under Armor boots
Favorite toys are the M4

And sometimes with a cap and sometimes with a helmet
And sometimes well hooded
The golden sight for target shooting
In a mess through trails and ravines
Descending the hills, you see only trucks
They're 4x4
And they always carry it slung with grenade launchers and with tostonazos

I keep working from the ranch
My children are what keep me moving forward
And if danger is ahead, I jump to the alert
And I jump to the hood to shoot the shots