My school has soul and boards It goes with old sweatshirts With dirty nikes and a long beard It doesn't need effects to adorn what it speaks Raps whatever it sees, it shoots you in two words I started rapping simple with a sample and a temple The hobby of a teenager lasts forever A pro since he was 15 and he doesn't give up, he understands That they sell their songs, but they don't sell themselves Insolent chronicler who uses saliva bullets My school was never a trend, but it's still alive We have initiative, perspective If something doesn't motivate us, we raise our middle finger up I'm talking about my team, those guys who take off the lipo Myths that launch each writing to infinity Others acting crazy, I'm closing the peak Closer to Casey than to Jay-Z, I don't know if I explain myself I have my clan following a plan to earn bread I have my fans looking for peace, they will find it in me So much talk, so without more eagerness than the famoseo I chop the olgazan like a croissant, when I see it, it's easy Their music is childish, useless, mine is tactile There will be no white flag on this mast I know that the rapper of Nazi attitude and style is fragile I mix my mind with TNT, something like that comes out so agile Like dolphins, their ends don't define me, don't be afraid If you don't live it, don't pine, don't underestimate this name Sublime tears, something huge, tell me How clumsy I was with their melody I let them rhyme, I see that they swell and puncture There are many targets for my arrow They think about their fight and not about the fight They go without a torch, without a torch They kick them out soon because soon they have gone out of date I'm a man of the word, don't talk to me about numbers Their songs are dry, my phrases are wet Without feathers, without hair, without truce, without hair The tongue that licks you, my *** is as serious as a spill They see that I electrocute them and I enjoy it, there are no substitutes If I spit, eight minutes of absolute raw rap I don't indulge myself if I don't sound on radios, I sound in neighborhoods My men lay eggs on them, my females lay ovaries But there are termites that imitate me, irritate me, they look for visitors They scream and scream, they get excited, then they leave without more My music is dynamite, those of capital remove fire Then it's normal that they imitate me, I freeze them, I'm pure poison When I speed up, I get stuck in their game, I sink them I'm like ice, I freeze their jealousy, they suffer the money, I bury them I chain them, I throw them my thunder without brakes I sound the rumble, so deep I only want true warriors saving my world A lot of jungle, few tigers A lot of gunpowder, little caliber ***, throw me to me You are not Conach and Resident A lot of jungle, few tigers A lot of gunpowder, little caliber ***, throw me to me You are not Conach and Resident I, I, I don't have a school Without the wind blowing, I learned to sail sailboats My rhyme on top of a cumbia, however it impacts I don't go to any school because I'm self-taught I never followed the rules with generic rap tracks With a Peruvian drawer, I wrote Latin America My rap doesn't follow the orders of any sergeant, *** I created my own movement that narrates And without claws, they tear you apart I didn't grow up listening to Tupac I grew up with Violeta Parra And when I write lyrics, I educate them without a blackboard With only two bars, I rock them without a guitar I don't believe in rap gods, much less in kings I am the *** gravity, defying the laws I am the order, but when it gets out of hand All my lines are curves, I always break the rules Lying under the shade of a relaxed palm Competing against myself because I don't have anyone by my side I like to abuse of the strawberry rappers I leave the R on their buttcheeks before I drink this beer I easily torture them I just take their Instagram and they become insecure again I don't think your fashion will last The 15-year-olds who follow you today They won't follow you when they mature A lot of selfies, little content They take longer in the dressing room than doing sound tests Their concerts are all the same Few rhymes, few bands A lot of fireworks, they don't escape me when I write They are easy to identify because they dress in striking colors I've never seen these rappers' faces I always see them from behind when I put them in four and I raise their skirts And I *** them through the two holes Without support, I roll them up in the Creole style I turn them into chicken broth The police look for me for sexual harassment and for perverts Because like K.C.O. I am a rapper of the verse And I beat them because with both legs I kick In the freestyle I read from the free shot I dunk them and without circling When I get mad with my word I start speaking in Arabic even to the Hebrews Sometimes I get in as fast as the alphabet I don't see them, I slap those of the Malianteo Like a grandmother's novel without a job My tongue is thrown acrobatics never seen before I am a juggler, an artist And like Michael Jackson, I do the moonwalking on the track No one can resist the resident When I go down hot, I put them on their knees literally Like the believers in the Middle East On their knees and pray I am a Taliban rhyming short-headed with my skill I take their heart with my mouth and I put it on the table On top of a hamburger bun with mayonnaise, Japanese sauce And a little bit of strawberry juice I eat them for breakfast, my tongue never stumbles When I express them, I go through them naturally My soup of letters begins, there will be the *** That I arrive, the piece that is missing in the puzzle A lot of jungle, few tigers A lot of gunpowder, little cocaine ***, throw me to me You are not Connachi, resident A lot of jungle, few tigers A lot of gunpowder, little cocaine ***, throw me to me You are not Connachi, resident Connachi, resident Trucos Connachi, resident