PERMISO (part. ONEY1)

Yeah, ah
Low profile, from the streets to the streets (oh)
Oney1, yeah
Fame Crew, Fame Click (son of a bitch, ey)
Yeah, ah (prr)

Let them talk however they want, I don’t even care (ha!)
Death to the rapists, bullets for the cops (eh!)
I’m burning the weed and they’re killing my vibe (eh!)
I promised my mom I wouldn’t step in a precinct (ha!)

Dude, we work here, our papers are all good
A kiss for the haters, cash for the family, ha! (What?)
I’m the real deal, little iron, lots of fists
Respect to those who respect, don’t mess with me (eh!, yeah)

You keep snorting that powder, your life’s going down the drain (ha-ha!)
While I’m making money because I’m spitting poetry (ha-ha!)
You guys are rats, don’t mess with La Mafilia (ah, yeah)
I don’t hang with traitors, I don’t do that junk (yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

I never look down on anyone, it’s the street code
I walk straight, it’s just that mom gave me some slaps (eh, eh!)
My lyrics are spicy like the name Fuerte Apache
This is my hood, and we don’t sell crack or base

I’ll hang it up to the ceiling and won’t budge an inch (what, what?)
If one day I hit it big at home, there won’t be a thing missing (no, no!)
God bless those who lack a blanket (yes, yes!, eh)
Soon freedom for my buddy who’s in for a screw-up (eh)

Walking through the hood, I slip into the hallway
I’m checking my pockets, I don’t even have a rolling paper (ha-ha!)
I’m pretty slick, trying to make a fortune
If you bought a new phone, they’ll throw you to the ground quick (eh, eh!)

Excuse me, I’m coming through, clear the way
I’m gonna win, succeed, step by step (what, what?)
Sometimes I feel down, I need a hug
But everything changes when I’m rolling a joint

Excuse me, I’m coming through, clear the way (eh, eh, eh!)
I’m gonna win, succeed, step by step (ha!)
Sometimes I feel down, I need a hug (yo, yo, yo)
But everything changes when I’m rolling a joint (eh, eh!), ha-ha!

(Check it out!) rolling a joint, buddy (hahaha!, check it out, man, yeah)
Sounds really cool (check it out! Check it out, man, yeah)

Yeah, we brought the shit you needed with that 90’s flavor
We’re the same as always, we don’t buy into the sales
Your track sounds really cool, but it doesn’t represent me
It’s like when they hand you a drink and it’s mint Fernet, and it sounds (cu-cú, cu-cú-cu-cú!)

Buddy, seriously, we’re turning up, check it out, no bullshit
We’re from the era when they’d send you tracks via Bluetooth
So you can shake that ass like El Retutu said
We’re back again to sound on your cell phone

Your neighbor used to listen and would start bobbing her head
If you demand respect, you gotta give it back
A shout-out to the crew, trigger [?]
The purest shit, ha, brought from San Francisco

Watch out, if they don’t know you, they might leave you on read
The dudes are wild, just in case they bring the heat
But when it’s not for food, a record drops on the corner