LYRICS GAME

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

I only bring my honey

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'm still f*ckin' tough

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

Always over low beats

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-yo-a-young Agustín

Abara-tín, abara-tín, abara-tín

Abara-yo-a-young Agustín

Abara-yo-a-young Agustín

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-