From Monday to Friday I'm working
Many wonder how I do it
If I'm hustling or still battling
And they're not happy 'cause they're gossiping
Step by step, so why talk?
These are blessings God gave me
I began dealing and now I'm blowing up
With the same cholos that rode with me
Painting the scene for a bunch of kids
Just so they know I'm no pushover
I'm loving it up in the U.S.A
If migra asks, I'm from the other side
Cutting the sky I go in a small plane
And every suitcase we bring is packed
I won't say with what so they don't butt in
Same as the boss, the line is direct
I dig trenches even when doors shut
I'm wicked too, just so you know
Like Pancho Villa, I'm in the fight
Routes and loads, guns, machine guns
I learned real good to deal with snakes
Shout-out to that whole crew of crazies
Let's go throw a party at the port
Ain't that right, homie Jesús?
Pure Fuerza Regida, dude
Here it goes, my homie Juan
Street mafia on top, bro
Over ten years I've been spinning around
I was blasting too, we even moved merch
With my brother we guarded Benja
I bailed from the port, grabbed no bag
And now in Guamúchil we spark the party
I head back to El Chuco to stack more cash
We were born driven, never were posh
And a few Barbies come by the pad
Juan from Culiacán respects who respects