Quien Diria (part. Natanael Cano)

(It's WICKED OUTSIDE)

Hey, who would’ve thought that cannabis wouldn’t leave?
Suitcases packed with what gets you high
And don’t doubt that we’ve got plenty of stashes
Like Pablo Emilio back in the eighties

And to my dad, a big shoutout from the cell
Four walls where he’s stuck
He’ll be out soon, boss, for real, when he comes back, he’ll see
Grateful, proud of his son he’ll be

The greens bring you more greens, no big deal
We keep burning weed from the Fly Club
And I’ve already won over Barcelonita
Over in Switzerland, they see me skiing in the Alps
And some VVS Swarovski I bought to relieve stress
I don’t pay for a hooker, always more than three show up

No need to tell them, I’m just laughing it off
Over in Ibiza, the Amex is the real deal
With Nata, 700k adds up, check it out
And I’m not talking pesos, I leave stains in dollars

My buddies call me El Fly, others call me The Lawyer
Support from the big guys, that’s what I’ve earned
They’re trained, the cholos are ready
Step out of line and we’ll set up an ambush

Changing the subject, buddy Fly, there’s no slowing down
The tactical infrared also carries flashlights
R’s in the mountains, hoods up in the hills (up in the hills)
You know they respect him, and if not, they can call me

I also have my crew ready to take them down
The tacticals, the 01s, and the devils
Come closer to the fire so you know what I’m talking about

From the first notebook, I knew it was my thing
And not the school ones, the ones that come from the field
Friends of the greens and the green brings more friends
But with a blacklist for anyone who gets too clever

Hey, do we stop or keep going, man?
The devils and not from Llorens
Buddy Victor
And real jalapeño, compadre
Ah, hey
The real street, man
Straight up, hey, hey

And right now they see me on the lookout
Everything I move isn’t new to me
Life and death is a canvas that I only paint
I light it on fire

They call me El Fly in the club
Suddenly popping bottles, they see me
I’m at home, born a new rich
They don’t bring me down from the top

The owner of the smoke
I’m throwing out smoke and I’m not scared of anyone
I pay for the turf, no one threatens me
And I move calmly in the ring

If I make money, it’s because I worked hard
Man, you guys don’t know, what’s up?
If I have a crime, let the judge handle it
They can fuck off, they already know who it is

Who would’ve thought that cannabis wouldn’t leave?
Suitcases packed with what gets you high
And don’t doubt that we’ve got plenty of stashes
Like Pablo Emilio back in the eighties

And to my dad, a big shoutout from the cell
Four walls where he’s stuck
He’ll be out soon, boss, for real, when he comes back, he’ll see
Grateful, proud of his son he’ll be

The greens bring you more greens, no big deal
We keep burning weed from the Fly Club
And I’ve already won over Barcelonita
Over in Switzerland, they see me skiing in the Alps
And some VVS Swarovski I bought to relieve stress
I don’t pay for a hooker, always more than three show up