Rap es Fuego - Translation

Chorus

Boom, fire, man

In Colombia rap is blowing up

Boom, fire, man

Let them stand on the limit

Boom boom

They don't believe from Bogotá to Soacha

Hip hop, dry paint

That describes our race

Boom, fire, man

In Colombia rap is blowing up

Boom, fire, man

Let them stand on the limit

Boom boom

They don't believe from Bogotá to Soacha

Hip hop, dry paint

That describes our race

Verse

In my family the parties

Tin roof neighbourhoods

Underground poetry

And don't forget the bonfires

Always harvesting good energy

Rap for my gang

I create fantasy stories

But none of them have fairies

It's a sea of melodies

Where the piranhas mix up

Tribute to the fallen

Who died in battle

For rap a loud cry

The people and their soul’s bleed

Between false positives

Stories that the river tells

Mothers cry, fathers remain silent

The pain accompanies them

Their little one in their heart

A planet that kills itself

I do not want to be

Another death by their weapons

I don't want to be there

When karma will catch up with them

I do not want to be

Another weight on their scale

Free soul, kick and snare

Because rap in Colombia blows up

Ghetto warriors, respect for all

Secret sounds are four elements that break the ice

And give us wisdom

Connecting the stories

Living together

Nobody knows what he has

And when you die, they throw flowers

This is rap from the stands

And life is only one

I always thank God

When the moon shines at night

I'm not easily moved

And I believe only in what I see

Many surrender themselves to the street

And like fish they take the bait

Ragamuffin underground

Freesoul putting their mark

An ancient sound brought from the epicentre

Brought from the epicentre

Chorus

Boom, fire, man

In Colombia rap is blowing up

Boom, fire, man

Let them stand on the limit

Boom boom

They don't believe from Bogotá to Soacha

Hip hop, dry paint

That describes our race

Boom, fire, man

In Colombia rap is blowing up

Boom, fire, man

Let them stand on the limit

Boom boom

They don't believe from Bogotá to Soacha

Hip hop, dry paint

That describes our race