DJ Swet & Milano Constantine - El Presidente

Producido por: DJ Swet

Letra de El Presidente

I’m from the block where the crime went up
Fan of the Bronx Bombers, George Steinbrenner
Stay in a fly, get up, Dakota John Lennon
Brown liquors sneak my men in a bunch of wild Yemens

Playing tapes, Kid Capri, leave the mic rotisserie
You light work, got light bulbs on my pinky ring
Keep it squeaky clean in case the boys come
Got rhymes in my mind like pearls and oysters

You little niggas Earl Boykins, coupé near the cloisters
The hitman got the silencer for no noises
The synagogue where my lawyer live, fast break
Goat tournament, ha… Only historic shit

I get to pouring out for those who didn’t make it
Black Market, Michael K. shit, you know the Matrix
Been doing this since Yay big, niggas wore wire before Ye did
To escape the federal and state bids

Listen: I’m painting on a grand piano
Me and Marvin sold the AR shit came with ammo
DJ Swet collabo, out in Barcelona
My shorty park the Rover, you smell the harsh aroma

Of Potato Runtz. Records get hit with fatal cuts
Used to rock a chain to my navel when I’m was crazy young
From stages to stadium, soul of Mahalia
No room for failure, shit only getting scarier

El Presidente, niggas know I kill shit the best way
Spit methane riding dirty down to the expressway
Cavalli fresh frames, don’t get the kid started
Fila sun visor, Fordham Road, Big Pun Plaza

All of my shit bonkers, Tony started off a dishwasher
Now you see me in them Kith garments
I’m a legit monster: Godzilla, King Kong shit
AMG kitted with the dark tints

Yeah, hahaha, yeah, nigga…
Milano Constantine, aka Tino, nigga
You know how we do…
Yeah... Shout out to DJ Swet
Live from Colombia, hahaha
Don’t make ‘em cut your face off
You know what I mean? With these scratches, nigga
Turntable mixologist at his finest
You hear me?

[Scratches] (x2)
“Turntable mixologist”

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