More songs by FERNANDOCOSTA
Description
This site smells of sweat, asphalt and self-confidence. Every beat is like a shot fired at the unwary, every rhymed syllable bounces off the wall like a ball on a basketball court. This isn't about hip-hop - it's about survival. About how to turn arrogance into currency and experience into armor.
There is steel in the voice, but with a slight taste of fatigue of a winner who has known the value of applause for too long. Everything is on fire, everything is making noise, and he stands in the center, like a man who has long understood: you can kill time in different ways, but it’s better - with a microphone in your hands. This is not anger, but sport. And yes, he scored again - from three points, straight into the legend.
Screenplay by Fernando Costa Morales. Producer: Blasfem (Blas MorPaikosner). Mixed by Xase (Juan Fernandez Bailo Rodriguez de Tembleque). Mastering - Slatin (Ruslan Slatin). Scratching by Datflex. Creative director of Los Payikos (Gines Gómez Guerrero and Mikel Fernández Sánchez). Topo Production. Inscription by Alberto Jimenez Torres. Styling by AAB E-STUDIO. Thanks to Snipes for supporting the project.
Directed by Marcel Sesplugues. Producer: Ares Sirvent. Executive producers: Tomas Conterio and Manu Marin. Produced by Ares Sirvent. Production Manager Allen Sanabria. Set Manager Claudia M. Santiago. Production assistants Laura Collado, Jonas Anabitarte and Paloma Silgo Sanchez. Runners Oscar Martin Romeo, Nico Gervos and Javier Pimentel. Production intern Luis Trinidad del Pozo. Assistant director Maite Lucia Valero. Second assistant director and casting Natalia Sepulveda. Photographer Samuel S. Barrio. Director of photography "Marriage". Camera assistant Felix Botello. Camera assistant trainee Rafael Navarro. DIT Chen exclamation mark. Gaffer Mehdi Lamsani. Best boy Paul Riewort. Electricians Jorge Aznar and Andres Moreno Grande. Elena Zhanot's grip. Tackling assistant Alejandro Oliva. Artistic director Lucia Soria. Decorator Natalia Arce. Artist assistant Adrian S. Tornero. Costume designer Miguel Fernandez Cruz. Wardrobe assistant Ines Manzano. Makeup artist Laura Stella Ramones. Makeup assistant Anais Nievas. Colorist Luma Saez. Editor Marcel Sesplugues. Graphics Chen exclamation mark.
Special thanks to: Mane Mane, Follow God Atelier, Arlie, Paola Barreto, Amores Eternos Costumes, AMT Studio, Skinsfromtheinsideofmymouth, Cozzy Clothing, Hunkemöller de Nota Bene, Ge de rosa de Lecuá Press, Mario Martin de Lecuá Press, Keperezaxiko de Lecuá Press, Sama Vintage de No Solo Una Idea Showroom.
Lyrics and translation
Original
Es hora de tomar acción.
Cuando cojo el micro to' se prende en fuego.
Vengo de la cantera, soy el rookie del mes con un piquete cabrón que tú ni te lo crees. La grada se levanta cuando tiro de tres.
Y suena bowling, lo he vuelto a hacer otra vez.
Sonando de escándalo, mis chicos to's vándalos, bebiendo del cántaro, me dicen: "Fer, mátalos".
Se quedan tan rígidos con este flow nítido, suenan insípidos, rapean muy rígido.
Para mí lo de rapear se ha convertido en mi patio. Raperitos como tú, yo ya he visto varios.
Hacen lo que yo diga, son mis becarios. Me sobra tensión, me sobran vatios. Padre, hijo, espíritu santo.
En diez años de carrera me he comido a unos cuantos. Antes Fernandito, luego don
Fernando. Ahora me hablan de señor en la reunión del banco.
Pussy rappers, se viven la peli, me tiran beef y los mando pa' Kelly.
Me quieren tirar y no me llegan ni a la suela de las tenis. Yo ya he muerto treinta veces, como Kenny.
Para hablar de mí, mejor límpiate la boca. No entiendo de música, pero tengo la nota.
Tú empezabas a fumar y yo escuchaba a Big Poppa.
Cuando nunca has peleado, los nervios se te notan y eso está claro.
Llevo los ojos como dos faros. Chupan cuatro pollas por colabo.
La vida a mí me ha enseñado a comer dos veces porque siempre estoy callado.
Quieren comparar su vida con la mía. Es como comparar diamantes con bisutería.
Soy el profesor cuando entra por el aula. Me siento Topuria dentro de la jaula.
Cuando cojo el micro, to' se prende en fuego.
Yo mato mi tiempo matando raperos.
Quitaos de la fila, ya llegó el primero.
Yo no te maté, te mató tu ego.
Por mamahuevo.
Eres un mamahuevo y todo el mundo lo sabe. Yo bebo Blue Label, yo no tomo jarabe.
Por aquí te comen como un cuenco de ramen. Bajo al barrio con la actitud de Thor el
Father y mira cómo los engancho, parece que toman fentanilo.
Me siento un francotirador porque los tengo a tiros.
Raperos frustrados lloran lágrimas de cocodrilo, porque por más que lo intenten, no pueden bregar conmigo.
Los pongo a bailar la Macarena.
Soy la solución a sus problemas.
El león no es tan valiente cuando sale la hiena.
Necesitaban esta mierda para meterla en sus venas.
Y suena, uh, ya ha llegado al ring el matador, el que juega en primera división. Me la comen como un lollipop, lollipop.
Y suena, uh, ven, que te doy una vuelta por el hood. Venden a su vieja por flush.
A mí me sobra actitud. Yo no soy un comepollas, primo, como lo eres tú.
Cuando cojo el micro, to' se prende en fuego.
Yo mato mi tiempo matando raperos.
Quitaos de la fila, ya llegó el primero.
Yo no te maté, te mató tu ego.
Por mamahuevo.
English translation
It's time to take action.
When I pick up the microphone it catches fire.
I come from the quarry, I'm the rookie of the month with a bastard picket that you wouldn't even believe. The stands rise when I shoot three.
And it sounds like bowling, I did it again.
Sounding scandalous, my boys, all the vandals, drinking from the pitcher, tell me: "Fer, kill them."
They stay so rigid with this clear flow, they sound insipid, they rap very rigid.
For me, rapping has become my playground. Rappers like you, I've already seen several.
They do what I say, they are my interns. I have too much tension, I have too much watts. Father, son, holy spirit.
In ten years of career I have eaten a few. Before Fernandito, then Don
Fernando. Now they talk to me about sir at the bank meeting.
Pussy rappers, they live the movie, they throw beef at me and I send them to Kelly.
They want to throw me and they can't even reach the sole of my tennis shoes. I've already died thirty times, like Kenny.
To talk about me, you better wipe your mouth. I don't understand music, but I have the note.
You started smoking and I listened to Big Poppa.
When you have never fought, your nerves show and that is clear.
I wear my eyes like two lighthouses. They suck four cocks per collaboration.
Life has taught me to eat twice because I am always silent.
They want to compare their life with mine. It's like comparing diamonds with costume jewelry.
I am the teacher when he enters the classroom. I feel Topuria inside the cage.
When I pick up the microphone, everything catches on fire.
I kill my time killing rappers.
Get out of line, the first one has arrived.
I didn't kill you, your ego killed you.
By mamahuevo.
You are a mamahuevo and everyone knows it. I drink Blue Label, I don't drink syrup.
Around here they eat you like a bowl of ramen. I go down to the neighborhood with the attitude of Thor the
Father and look how I hook them up, it seems like they take fentanyl.
I feel like a sniper because I have them under fire.
Frustrated rappers cry crocodile tears, because no matter how hard they try, they can't deal with me.
I make them dance the Macarena.
I am the solution to your problems.
The lion is not so brave when the hyena comes out.
They needed this shit to get into their veins.
And it sounds, uh, the matador, the one who plays in the first division, has already arrived at the ring. They eat it like a lollipop, lollipop.
And it sounds, uh, come on, I'll give you a tour of the hood. They sell their old woman for a flush.
I have plenty of attitude. I'm not a cocksucker, cousin, like you are.
When I pick up the microphone, everything catches on fire.
I kill my time killing rappers.
Get out of line, the first one has arrived.
I didn't kill you, your ego killed you.
By mamahuevo.