La Bala - Calle 13

El martillo impacta la aguja

La explosión de la pólvora con fuerza empuja

Movimiento de rotación y traslación

Sale la bala arrojada fuera del cañón

Con un objetivo directo

La bala pasea segura y firme durante su trayecto

Hiriendo de muerte al viento

Mas rápida que el tiempo

Defendiendo cualquier argumento

No le importa si su destino es violento

Va tranquila, la bala no tiene sentimientos

Como un secreto que no quieres escuchar

La bala va diciéndolo todo sin hablar

Sin levantar sospecha asegura su matanza

Por eso tiene llena de plomo su panza

Para llegar a su presa no necesita ojos

Y mas cuando el camino se lo traza un infrarrojo

La bala nunca se da por vencida

Si no mata hoy, por lo menos deja una herida

Luego de su salida no habrá detenida

Obedece a su patrono solo una vez en su vida

Hay poco dinero pero hay muchas balas

Hay poca comida pero hay muchas balas

Hay poca gente buena por eso hay muchas balas

Cuidao que ahí viene una!

Pa!

Pa!

Pa!

Pa!

Se escucha un disparo, agarra confianza

El sonido la persigue pero no la alcanza

La bala saca sus colmillos de acero

Y Sin pedir permiso entra por el cuero

Muerde los tejidos con rabia

Le arranca el pecho a las arterias

Para causar hemorragia

Vuela la sangre, batida de fresa,

Salsa boloñesa, sirop de frambuesa

Una cascada de arte contemporáneo

Color rojo vivo sale por el cráneo

Hay poco dinero, pero hay muchas balas

Hay poca comida, pero hay muchas balas

Hay poca gente buena, por eso hay muchas balas

Cuidao que ahí viene una!

Pa!

Pa!

Pa!

Pa!

Sería inaccesible el que alguien te mate

Si cada bala costara lo que cuesta un yate

Tendrías que ahorrar todo tu salario

Para ser un mercenario habría que ser millonario

Pero no es así, se mata por montones

Las balas son igual de baratas que los condones

Hay poca educación hay muchos cartuchos

Cuando se lee poco se dispara mucho

Hay quienes asesinan y no dan la cara

El rico da la orden y el pobre la dispara

No se necesitan balas para probar un punto

Es lógico, no se puede hablar con un difunto

El dialogo destruye cualquier situación macabra

Antes de usar balas disparo con palabras

Hay poco dinero, pero hay muchas balas

Hay poca comida, pero hay muchas balas

Hay poca gente buena, por eso hay muchas balas

Cuidao que ahí viene una!

Pa!

Pa!

Pa!

Pa!

The hammer hits the needle

The explosion of gunpowder with force pushes

Rotation and translation movement

The bullet thrown out of the barrel comes out

With a direct aim

The bullet travels safely and firmly during its journey

wounding the wind to death

faster than time

Defending any argument

He doesn't care if his fate is violent

It goes calm, the bullet has no feelings

Like a secret you don't want to hear

The bullet says everything without speaking

Without raising suspicion ensures his killing

That's why his belly is full of lead

To reach his prey he doesn't need eyes

And more when the path is traced by an infrared

The bullet never gives up

If he doesn't kill today, at least he leaves a wound

After your departure there will be no detention

He obeys his boss only once in his life

There is little money but there are many bullets

There is little food but there are many bullets

There are few good people that's why there are many bullets

Watch out, here comes one!

pa!

pa!

pa!

pa!

You hear a shot, grab confidence

The sound chases her but doesn't reach her

The bullet bears its steel fangs

And without asking permission enters through the leather

bites tissues with rage

It rips the chest out of the arteries

to cause bleeding

The blood flies, strawberry milkshake,

Bolognese sauce, raspberry syrup

A waterfall of contemporary art

Bright red color comes out of the skull

There is little money, but there are many bullets

There is little food, but there are many bullets

There are few good people, that's why there are many bullets

Watch out, here comes one!

pa!

pa!

pa!

pa!

It would be inaccessible for someone to kill you

If each bullet cost what a yacht costs

You would have to save all your salary

To be a mercenary you would have to be a millionaire

But it's not like that, he kills himself in droves

Bullets are just as cheap as condoms

There is little education there are many cartridges

When you read little, you shoot a lot

There are those who murder and do not show their faces

The rich give the order and the poor shoot it

No bullets needed to prove a point

It's logical, you can't talk to a deceased

Dialogue destroys any macabre situation

Before I use bullets I shoot with words

There is little money, but there are many bullets

There is little food, but there are many bullets

There are few good people, that's why there are many bullets

Watch out, here comes one!

pa!

pa!

pa!

pa!