DOS O TRES English Translation Lyrics by Myke Towers
All the songs hitting the top ten
I like bad gyals like Alba
Young Kingz, baby
Haha
Ah
For me, it’s an honor to inspire you
My life is a movie; the streets call for action
In heaven, they celebrated when Michael was born
Among the greats, my name always comes up in conversation
I want at least 500 for a collab
If I like them, I send a heart on Instagram
I use protection; I come with a shell
Hustling all day, I don’t even know what time it is
When the sun rises, we’ll take the machines to the water
I don’t talk to rats; they don’t keep their word
When I arrive at the mall, I enter the store, and they have to close it
The goods arrived—store it in the warehouse
All the songs hitting the top ten
At first, they doubt, underestimate, and don’t believe
I used to ride the train to college, writing
Now I head straight to the show after getting off the airplane
In the booth, I feel like an alien
Your favorite listens to me and falls into depression
I’ve been a Young King since I was in the womb
The shorty’s asking me to give it to her
When I spend money, I don’t even think about it
I’m picking up on things in $20 bills
I had to create a project for my people
LYKE MIKE is a classic—here’s the next one
There are a few who don’t live it, but they fake it
I’m chilling, easing the stress
With a blunt and a bad gyal like the ones from Spain
Don’t call, we’ll talk later
There are a few who don’t live it, but they fake it
I’m chilling, easing the stress
With a blunt and a bad gyal like the ones from Spain
Don’t call, we’ll talk later
I love bad gyals like Alba
Who shake their hips in a short dress
With her cowboy hat, she rides me
I’m the one who ruins their adventures
Jeremy De León in Madrid, out of the cage
You feel the animal instinct in the aura
I like to execute while the commentator narrates
Playing hard when the sneakers are laced
I move on the tracks like Leandro Antonetti on the field
I’ve got Puerto Rico in my genetics
The bills in the club fall slowly like confetti
Wherever I step, that’s fertile ground
They ask for photos, and I say, “Quick, take a selfie”
When I get paid, women even find me sexy
My guys rocking braids and dreadlocks like Fara and Fresy
They’re lit up like Kiko El Crazy
Now I go to bed later and wake up earlier
Applying the discipline of Leonel and Cristiano
I’m not here for setbacks or distractions—catch you later
Keep it mafia-gangster style like The Sopranos
You know it’s ZaZa from the smoke we blow
You’re not my girl; I don’t want any complaints
I don’t follow trends; we set the flow
Rolling with 300 like the Spartans
There are a few who don’t live it, but they fake it
I’m chilling, easing the stress
With a blunt and a bad gyal like the ones from Spain
Don’t call, we’ll talk later
There are a few who don’t live it, but they fake it
I’m chilling, easing the stress
With a blunt and a bad gyal like the ones from Spain
Don’t call, we’ll talk later
Haha, ah
We’ll talk later, man
Myke
What’s up?
Young Kingz, baby, -y, -y