[Part I]
Standing up to me, I doubt it, ’cause I’ve got various styles
Standing up to me, I doubt it, ’cause I’ve got various styles
Standing up to me, I doubt it, ’cause I’ve got various styles
Standing up to me, I doubt it, ’cause I’ve got va-va-va—
Standing up to me, I doubt it, ’cause I’ve got various styles (Va-Va-Va—)
Standing up to me, I doubt it, ’cause I’ve got various styles (Va-Va-Va—)
Standing up to me, I doubt it, ’cause I’ve got various styles (Va-Va-Va—)
Standing up to me, I doubt it, ’cause I’ve got various styles (Va-Va-Va—)
All this flow, mama, bi, you and your wannabe crew
Fronting with butts that I knocked out a while ago
I’ve got two Playboy chicks, feeling like Tommy Lee
Damn, twenty-nine and zero, damn, I feel like Khabib
MVP, Iverson with the sleeve
Sent her the PIN of the hotel, the suite is hotter than LIV
You know I’m on fire when the spliffs arrive, okay, okay
I’m the boss, everyone follows me, okay, okay
Pretty Ballads with Raf, Octavio with Rick
Tell Andrés, tell Antonio, I need another feat
I got the hardest one from the gym, damn, and I’m not even fit
Damn, text Nicole ’cause I don’t even know my feed anymore
You look like Osiris, but you’re from Paris
Sent her an LV TIENDV hoodie and she models it for me
A German model, that ass is AMG
You don’t hang out with the gang or cheat, my G
Oh, bastard, what are you going to do?
You can’t make it even if you were born again
It’s your shorty who wants it, what am I going to do?
Keep talking shit and we’ll see, you’ll see
Oh, bastard, what are you going to do?
You can’t make it even if you were born again
It’s your shorty who wants it, what am I going to do?
Keep talking shit and we’ll see
Damn, tell the promoter we want everything in cash
Afterward, we’ll head to District, gonna blow it up tonight
I’ve got beef with my accountant, always nagging at me
But I never had anything, how am I supposed to know how to save?
Riding around in the Prado, from Palma’ to Vigado
I got shooters in the states, I got bosses—
[Part II]
Remember your Creator in the days of your youth before the evil days come
Let’s go to heaven
Let’s go to hea—, let’s go to heaven
Remember your—
Youth
Let’s go to hea—, let’s go to—, let’s go to hea—
Striving for my Nikes to touch this whole world
So that money stops being a problem at my home
You admire the imitator, never the original
Can’t fake it, being who I am, I’d rather die
Praying for the clouds not to ruin the good days
In case bad luck strikes, can’t put a stop to it
This 911 Turbo already filled with dreams
Basquiat in this shit, LEGO by LEGO
I design my future, doing it for those I’d die for
Working on what many would kill for
They changed with me and I had to give them a default
It hurt, but it was all part of the role
I’ve been in the bullpen for years waiting for my call
And my time came with an overall, overall
I swore that anyone trying to overshadow me
I’d have to knock them down like Luka to Chris Paul
Had to create my own league like LaVar Ball
And now I teach like Robi Alomar in baseball
From the Hall of Fame while you strike out in softball
Life never stops and turns like a sunflower
You gotta turn it into art like Banksy and Andy War
Today they don’t know you, tomorrow you’re like Biggie Smalls
Ready to die a legend, Tom Brady in the Super Bowl
And dunking over with the— (Drop it on them), ah
Find me a mirror to inspire me
This will live forever, because it’s art, art
Now everyone wants me to sing it to them
Because my favorite rappers don’t hit it like before
Find me a mirror to inspire me
This will live forever, because it’s art, art
Now everyone wants me to sing it to them
Because my favorite rappers don’t hit it like before
What do you need to answer, asshole?
I’ll set up the studio for you, pay for hours of study, pay for the beat, tell me who
Send the invoice, I’ll cover it, but answer