Yo brother, the 1 is back, Young Roman
I’ve got a diploma in taking those toys down
My words are truth, they aren't taken as a joke
We stay underground, you don't quit in the round
I got the gloves, push ahead
I spit the most wanted verse, I don't hang diamonds
I got art, rhythm that cracks you in the cypher
Fifty thousand ways to hit you with this dance
Dude, there's no sway anymore, I only ride the train
A.C.R.U now and again I smoke flowers of Eden
I don't drop the premium, I rock the 10, what do they think?
I paint their forehead with the number one tag again
Who's dissing, dude? Tell me who
And that's even though I just warmed up
And that's when I'm about to annoy, my friend
I spit fresh, I shoot, because I'm still alive
I've got every rhythm I write crystal clear
Into the match at the decisive moment
I define it for you, I alone score the goal, I forgive but I don't forget
I stop them with my elbow, dude, they're hidden
What's happening? Young Roman coming into the house
Dribbling like Hazard, I move it like salsa
What's happening? The king of the parade
My rhythms aren't taken as fake
They're taken like a boost
Hand in hand with the one that called me a brother
I think about nothing, that's why I make it clear to you
I'm amping this verse up, it's not pricey
I move like I'm in a warehouse, my shots ring
You'd better be on watch because I have the pencil on my side
The tooth is sharp, it's in Stalingrad
They know that this field is mined
With skills, underground styles
The kid who lives it, I brought my skills, tell them
That this ten comes in again
I drop this dope, dude, I'm at a hundred
Percent, just like I tell you
They know I blow it up, this cooks on a slow fire
It's my moment, they know they're watching it
With eyes wide open the ten is converting it for you
Into goals, switch over the Rode, I got thousands of stories inside the pen
They travel with my pollen, they chant my goals, I'm sketching texts from the pen
I leave tags, the hot thug but in Pac mode
I'm not like Young Thug, like Nate Dogg I give you more
I spit fresh lines, I go low
They know I'm doing it, I got peace
Who's back? Who's back? It delivers punch-lines
Just pulling the truth Suge Knight style
In the hood night there aren't power cuts
My sh*t spreads, knows only blues keep following
They chase me like the pencil and I couldn't
I didn't let myself miss this fresh rhythm, I kept up
They know very well I don't roll V.I.P
A.C.R.U smashes you in the club
Dude, A.C.R.U me, Young Agustín
Abara-a-a-tín, abara-tín, abara-tín, abara-tín
Abara-tín, abara-tín, abara-tín
Pure noise while I fly with the widow
While I'm the chosen one like my friend Guido
Some play the güiro, I just pursue the meaning
That leads me to only shoot good soun-