You can see a slammed ride and
Sweet paint, real classy, looks all babe
A chill cat keeps tossing pure fuel
For sure you can tell they're about to spark it
El Rayo's got a .40 tucked, don't get close, they know he's the sh*t
’Cause what they move, they know it's
Quality, the biz moves for him without a finger lifted
He worries about always being first
Devil eyes, inside he's a whole other trip
They haul fat stacks, hill-colored bills
Even when it's green, he still knows how to spark it
Straight corridos tumbados with Junior H
Only Rancho Humilde, man
Radios blare while he keeps on
Winning, Honduran rides guard the desert
I drop no names but he moves in Guanajuato
He always keeps it etched on his chest
They pack toys, all of them oiled up
The steel bangs, every eye locked in
We're not mobsters, they just do their job
But he stays sharp ’cause there's still rivals
All lit up, he says goodbye
Kid, with straight babes, greens, and white powder
Up in the hills the crew is commanded
When there's no party, it's time for deer-hunting