From Culiacán, Sinaloa, with my buddy Edgardo
From the original corridos
Hell yeah buddy Jesús, and pure Fuerza Regida
Not everything came easy to me, I also suffered a lot
Walking down the street barefoot, my feet burn
I asked my Saint Jude while I held back hunger
I'm from a poor family, someone had to hustle
My dreams were clear and the goals ahead
I flipped the coin, I wanted big money
Thanks for the lessons, Don Roque, I'm on point
You know that I won't slack, we'll keep moving forward
Several years have passed and I no longer go hungry
And it changed, call after call kept hitting the phone
Now it's my turn, I don't turn back anymore
Wearing the cap of the Guzmán Salazar
In the game there are many tricks, you have to study it
No matter how many friends you have, they won't teach you the code
They don't wanna see you on top and they wanna leave you down
In searching so much, life has taken something important from me
That night isn't forgotten, how I suffered a lot
The shots in the Tahoe, may my brother rest in peace
And it changed, call after call kept hitting the phone
Now it's my turn, I don't turn back anymore
Wearing the cap of the Guzmán Salazar
That's right my buddy, they're nothing but pure Fuerza Regida, big guy
F*ck yeah man, and long live the street mafia
Long live Culiacán, Sinaloa, cousin