Rima 1

No han creado la reserva
Donde cambie tu destino
Seguirás noche tras noche
Sin poder dormir tranquilo
Como cazador furtivo
Ahora extingo al enemigo
Con disparos emitidos
Por la fuerza de mi micro
Disecados, tengo MC's
Como adornos en mi sala
Son trofeos de batallas
En las que no dieron la talla
Sin agallas sus metrallas
Parecieran ser de salva
Comparada con la furia de mis rimas
Armas largas
Como sicario de la mafia
Tengo una lista de encargos
Así que preparados para el trago más amargo
Que yo cargo tal violencia
En la esencia de mis versos
Que a mi lado parece una niña
El famoso Charles Manson

[Verse: MC Babo]
They haven't created the backup where your fate changes
You'll continue night after night without being able to sleep easy
Like a furtive hunter I now extinguish the enemy
With shots issued by my mic's strength
I have MCs disseated as décor in my living room
They're battle trophies from which their size didn't fit
Without guts, their shrapnel would appear to be like blank bullets
Compared to the fury of my rhymes, big guns
Like a hitman from the mafia I have a list of errands
So be prepared for the bitterest shot
Because I carry such violence in the essence of my verse
That by my side the famous Charles Manson looks like a girl