And,
he says,
In the city where the noise doesn't stop,
Walking among the people that are stumbling,
I follow my path,
I don't lose my head in this game of life,
that sometimes weighs me down.

Sharp letters like knives in my mind,
I'm rhyming the truth,
I'm not afraid of people.

Each word is a direct blow to the unconscious,
pouring flows without filters with passion,
100% of conscience.

The mic is my sword,
my shield and my flag.

In this sea of hip hop,
they call it the Mareal.

Rushing with everything, leaving my footprint, my voice is my strength,
my most beautiful weapon.

The fin in the house,
the grana, daily and the camellia.

In every corner, in every neighborhood where you can hear my rhymes alone in the light,
in the middle of their struggles,
denouncing the injustice of the abrupt reality.

Son of a bitch!,
I am the echo of my people,
I am the echo of my people,
the voice that does not die.

The echo of my people.

I am the echo of my people,
I am the echo of my people,
the voice that does not die.

The echo of my people.

Yes, verses are the voice of what they are not heard,
of those who fight day to day but always despised,
singing for those who resist,
do not give up and do not surrender,
anonymous and invisible heroes who also beep.

And forget about my base,
my freedom, without borders.

Every note is a journey,
every rhythm comes out of the big sphere.

I am an urban poet,
a troubadour coming out of the asphalt.

If my lyrics are bullets,
this is a fucking assault.

I am the echo of my people,
I am the echo of my people,
the voice that does not die.

The echo of my people.

I am the echo of my people,
I am the echo of my people,
the voice that does not die.

The echo of my people.

I am the reflection of my environment,
the voice of each neighborhood.

Aha.

My rap is the truth,
without makeup or disguise.

MH brought me.

If you do not believe me, go and ask.

Do not be afraid.