In this modern corrido, Gerardo Ortiz slips into the boots of Dámaso, an heir to a powerful Sinaloan dynasty who wears loyalty like a badge and danger like a shadow. The lyrics read like a personal introduction at a smoky fiesta: Dámaso praises the “licenciado” father who opened every door, salutes his padrino and his allies, and vows to repay every favor. Between name-dropping coded nicknames like el uno cinco and el mini licenciado, he flashes images of Culiacán streets that “arden” (burn), bodyguards who ride bien ensillados (well-saddled), and celebratory nights fueled by banda music, icy drinks, and an open company expense account.
Beneath the swagger, the song sketches a code: family first, word of honor unbreakable, generosity for loyal crew, and watchful readiness when “the streets are hot.” It is an anthem of status and survival inside Mexico’s narco-corridos tradition, mixing pride, romance, and adrenaline into a single roar that lets listeners glimpse both the glitter and the grit of Dámaso’s world.