to' los violentos en las calles fredd santos van a conocer, vine a arrancarle la cabeza a los mas fuertes. thanks to makaveli the don, the legend, still the sun of millions of fans, that knows and understands. no soy un superman, pero tengo la agilidad, de infundir pechos con plomo como cara cota'. face off, say hello to my little friend si quieren guerria. y si tienen guilladera de gansta? this is thug life, no sean chotas. aguanten por esa cuca, si se meten a puta, o retired from the game, si ya no lo disfrutan.
to' los violentos en las calles fredd santos van a conocer, came this way taking heads off de los mas fuertes. the legend, still shine, still rise, war stories, we'll survive. el sol de millions of fans, welcome to earth, no soy un superman, pero tengo la agilidad, de infundir pechos con plomo, como cara corta'. scarfce off, say hello to my little friend's son, si quieren guerria. y si tienen guilladera de gangsta? pues, this is thug life, no sean chotas. aguanten por esa cuca, si se meten a puta, o retired from the game, si ya no lo disfrutan.
tu cuerpo quemado, tu cabeza en otro lado. caja cerrada en tu funeral quebrantos. tus restos flotando en el rio bocabajo, caja cerrada porque ya esta putrefacto.
cornerlight flickers, dominoes fall — night script, i narrate the scar,
taxi windows fogged with names of ghosts who never left the bar.
i map the block in syllables, internal rhymes like veins — connect the pain,
rakim posture, nas vision: i paint the alley where the hustles rain.
eminem cadence when the anger flips — spit a hundred-breath confessional,
snapback shadow in the doorway, witness to the cross-sectional.
fredd's ledger: receipts of mercy never paid, we tally debts in rust,
concrete sermons, padre of the gutter, preached in neon and in dust.
a mother counts the minutes, prayer beads click under her breath,
while kids play rumba on the stoop flirting with the lever of death.
denbow kick under the snare — island bounce married to the boom-bap swing,
reggae bass slides through the verse like smoke that always knows to cling.
i keep the flow surgical — multisylla bullets in the bars i lace,
describe the blue tarp, rot stains, and the cadence of a fallen face.
but listen: survival's in the subtleties, the barter of the bold,
how loyalty's a currency, and grudges never get cold.
we move in low frequency — heartbeats synced with the city clock,
lessons taught behind shutters, lessons learned with every block.
no glory in the headlines, just the alleys' l
tu cuerpo quemado, tu cabeza en otro lado. caja cerrada en tu funeral quebrantos. tus restos flotando en el rio bocabajo, caja cerrada porque ya esta putrefacto.
(mmm-hmmm)
(ooh-whoa...)
(ooh-whoa...)
(yeah... hey... yeah)
tu cuerpo quemado, tu cabeza en otro lado! caja cerrada en tu funeral quebrantos! tus restos flotando en el rio bocabajo! caja cerrada porque ya esta putrefacto!
(floating... yeah)
(otro lado... so lonely...)
(ooh, caja cerrada... river run deep)
(it's all over now... yeah)
caja cerrada. putrefacto. this is thug life. fredd santos. we out.
