I want that when I die you all listen
This is my taste and my style
My Latin casket and me well dressed with my gold jewelry
In my right hand, an AK-47
And in the other, a kilo of powder
My good cowboy hat and ostrich boots
A good Alipus and a deer-hide vest
So that Saint Peter tells Saint John
There comes a heavyweight bull
And I don't wanna do it in vain
With my Last Contraband
If God doesn't accept me like this
Well, let's see if the devil accepts me
I want only my friends at my wake
The ones that are in this business
Bringing platters and offering powder to everybody
That they play cards and fine roosters too
Like the real bulls do
I'm gonna leave at my funeral
What's more, let a band play, man
And a good conjunto when I'm already dying
So that the corrido is heard real loud
With resin and weed branches
And I want, if it were possible
That you bury me with my truck
Just so that they see that the earth
Didn't swallow just anything