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