Tombos HP

Son of a bitch cops who want to take everything from me if I put on handcuffs
I fight them even with my elbows, they only criticize us, they judge us for what we are not
They don't look in the mirror because they are severe fools
The pigs arrived, the meat-crazy patrolmen arrived, the basilocas pirobas arrived
They want to take away my grams, my wrists, and also my foltas
The combs, the machetes, the cans and the compotes

The atmosphere is heated. Anyone who doesn't jump is a high school student. They want a service weight
But the quotas are hanging, I am not a drop drop
But if he doesn't pay, all this adrenaline that's making my head churn will explode

A snake in my boot like Woody with the troop, whoever hits it, whoever lights it
And if it carburettes, then it rotates 360° if I meet the grim reaper
And at about 200 meters the pirobos already mark me

I don't know if it's my pisco perfume that betrays me, I don't let myself be searched, I stand there hard
And I bother them, walking with the 5-4 they light up like a bonfire, more than one of them gives us away
But we don't give a paw, either
Let's leave it, we keep the tie like the rich people who bribe with their money

A pure prude in the environment, a pure rat, hanging out with the horrendous ones
And the pirate chocos, raiders, the cops want to screw us
So looking for what to plant with what I already planted
They're looking for tires but I'm already glued, they're looking for the rent but I've already rented it

I get up at 6, have a coffee, and my doubts begin to open
I already got my speaker ready, I'm going to go up to Suba
I pedal like crazy until my hands sweat
I'm going by bike, I don't give a damn about the Transmilenio

Tombo hp to-tombo hp to-tombo hp to-tombo hp to-tombo hp to-tombo hp
To-tombo hp to-tombo hp tombos hptas, I was born others whose wish I grant
I come from Florida, I'm already with the ones I don't like, I ride them like a sled in the rafter, I swing
I think I have schizophrenia because people look at me funny

I'm always on the lookout for cops, always on the lookout for the old ones
He doesn't like graffiti, paint it, I color it, he doesn't like the facade
Because I don't look like a goat, but I bring you my style and my lyrics that are poison

Ah well, then how do we get my bad life by suitcase?
Well, life is a handkerchief because the world turns and turns and you
With chest blows you can't undo all the shots I've already taken

Central, central
We have a 9-0-9 in progress
Please send all available units to me 5-20
A guy named Ruthlees
It is causing 9-44

Ruthlees is the one who narrates the music is for rats for bandits for lawyers
To scruby the alcarrata for the deaf for the can for the band that descats
For the patch for the paw for the minds I knew
Breaking the Christmas Eve without using a maraca, only to the rhythm of this pisto that in their minds counterattacks
Versions that do not confront patching with the old guard with the media making history in the negative heart zone