¿Kieres Jugar? - Triple XXX, Jefe de la M

Para el crack no hay Mc que valga, ¡bye!

No playback rap crazy

Me rio de los chivatos que van de Dick Tracy

Compi, camon here

No eres tanto como tu decías

Tu rimas es fría, my shit is real

No tengo tiempo para escuchar tonterías

Sigo mi camino

Mas calidad con los años como el buen vino

Triunfa es mi sino

Yo no voy de malo de películas de chinos, ¡primo!

Con Hozone production

You lose, ¿jode mucho?

Yo no escucho tu rap flacucho

Intruso, coges el micro y te tiembla el pulso

Doy buen uso de mi don

El humo es mi arma enciéndelo

Vengo a robarte y quedarme con todo, créetelo, ¡campeón!

¿quien es el chulo?

Dream team, son quien lo hacen más guapo

Venid, podéis llamarnos capos

Es así, tres micros y un ritmazo

Chachi, no pueden contra reyes

Tu quieres retarme, medirte

En un duelo puedes herirte

De local o de visitante

El Spanish te cruje, tengo estirpe

Competi tu para mi, ¡jaja!

Yo rompo el flow papi, ¡yeye!

Mi ring, mi tatami, ¡waka!

Caíste yo te pulí

Mi plan, callar, clamar, petar

Ganar, fumar, kamasutra, luego volar

Lirica barata, no tenemos arreglo, aquí demostramos

Darnos respeto, venimos de la city

Del sol y de los cuernos

Al chulo del Bulto, le coméis los huevos

Dream team, son quien lo hacen más guapo

Venid, podéis llamarnos capos

Es así, tres micros y un ritmazo

Chachi, no pueden contra reyes

¡Apuesta al 13!, Bobby Lo, Showtime

Recuerda a Málaga, perro que contáis

En el campo de juego no hay que pensar

Mi track es real, os va a doblar

No amago, ni me creo tu halago

Call me raro, que descaro

Vengo de la escuela de los hard knocks

Tra-traigo skillz y tu, ¡chitón!

Si no hay dolor, prepárate para el impacto, «M» soul

Mira mi rap va para largo, escúchalo

Muchos me llamaron vándalo

Y currándolo me gane el amor

No tienes respeto, solo tu sello piensa que eres bueno

Fly, Bob, Gordo y Big Hozon

Analízalo, ven y supéralo

Tengo un buen plan y un microphone

Zim-zimma, pilla mi calor

Gimme som mo, recuérdalo

¿Carajaulas contra mí?, no lo creo no

Este hijo puta viene del barrio, warriors

La Colonia manda, manos levantando

For crack there is no MC that is worth it, bye!

No playback rap crazy

I laugh at the snitches that go by Dick Tracy

Compi, come here

You are not as much as you said

Your rhymes are cold, my shit is real

I don't have time to listen to nonsense

I go my way

More quality with the years like good wine

Triumph is my fate

I'm not bad at Chinese movies, cousin!

With Hozone production

You lose, do you fuck a lot?

I don't listen to your skinny rap

Intruder, you pick up the microphone and your pulse trembles

I make good use of my gift

Smoke is my weapon light it up

I come to rob you and keep everything, believe it, champion!

who is the pimp?

Dream team, they are the ones who make it more handsome

Come on, you can call us bosses

It is like that, three microphones and a great rhythm

Chachi, they can't against kings

You want to challenge me, measure yourself

In a duel you can hurt yourself

Home or away

The Spanish creaks you, I have lineage

You competed for me, haha!

I break the flow daddy, yeye!

My ring, my tatami, waka!

You fell, I polished you

My plan, shut up, cry out, petar

Win, smoke, kamasutra, then fly

Cheap lyric, we have no arrangement, here we demonstrate

Give us respect, we come from the city

Of the sun and of the horns

You eat the balls of the Lump's pimp

Dream team, they are the ones who make it more handsome

Come on, you can call us bosses

It is like that, three microphones and a great rhythm

Chachi, they can't against kings

Bet on 13!, Bobby Lo, Showtime

Remember Malaga, dog that you count

On the playing field you don't have to think

My track is real, it will bend you

I do not threaten, nor do I believe your compliment

Call me weird, what a nerve

I come from the school of hard knocks

I bring skillz and you, whoop!

If there is no pain, brace yourself for impact, "M" soul

Look at my rap goes long, listen to it

Many called me a vandal

And working on it, I won love

You have no respect, only your stamp thinks you're good

Fly, Bob, Gordo and Big Hozon

Analyze it, come and get over it

I have a good plan and a microphone

Zim-zimma, catch my heat

Gimme som mo, remember it

Carajaulas against me? I don't think so

This son of a bitch comes from the hood, warriors

The Colony rules, hands up