Calle 13 "La Bala" lyrics

La Bala

El martillo impacta la agujaLa explosión de la pólvora con fuerza empujaMovimiento de rotación y traslaciónSale la bala arrojada fuera del cañóncon un objetivo directola bala pasea segura y firme durante su trayectoHiriendo de muerte al viento, más rápida que el tiempodefendiendo cualquier argumentoNo le importa si su desitno es violentoVa tranquila, la bala, no tiene sentimientosComo un secreto que no quieres escucharla bala va diciéndolo todo sin hablarSin levantar sospecha, asegura su matanzaPor eso tiene llena de plomo su panzapara llegar a su presa no necesita ojosY más cuando el camino se lo traza un infrarojola bala nunca se da por vencidaSi no mata hoy, por lo menos deja una heridaLuego de su salida no habrá detenidaObedece a su patrón una sola vez en su vidaCoro

Hay poco dinero, pero hay muchas balasHay poca comida, pero hay muchas balasHay poco gente buena, por eso hay muchas balasCuidao' que ahí viene una (Pla! Pla! Pla! Pla!)

Hay poco dinero, pero hay muchas balasHay poca comida, pero hay muchas balasHay poco gente buena, por eso hay muchas balasCuidao' que ahí viene una (Pla! Pla! Pla! Pla!)

Se escucha un disparo, agarra confianzaEl sonido la persigue, pero no la alcanzaLa bala sacas sus colmillos de aceroY sin pedir permiso, entra por el cueroMuerde los tejidos con rabia y arranca,El pecho a las arterias para causar hemorragiaVuela la sangre batida de fresaSalsa boloñesa, syrup de frambuesaUna cascada de arte contemporaneoColor rojo vivo, sale por el cráneo

Coro

Hay poco dinero, pero hay muchas balasHay poca comida, pero hay muchas balasHay poco gente buena, por eso hay muchas balasCuidao' que ahí viene una (Pla! Pla! Pla! Pla!)

Hay poco dinero, pero hay muchas balasHay poca comida, pero hay muchas balasHay poco gente buena, por eso hay muchas balasCuidao' que ahí viene una (Pla! Pla! Pla! Pla!)

Sería inaccesible el que alguien te mateSi cada bala costara lo que cuesta un yateTendrías que ahorrar todo tu salarioPara ser un mercenarío, habría que ser millonarioPero no es así, se mata por montonesLas balas son igual de baratas que los condonesHay poca educación, hay muchos cartuchosCuando se lee poco, se dipara muchoHay quienes asesinan y no dan la caraEl rico da la orden yel pobre la disparaNo se necesitan balas para probar un puntoEs lógico, no se puede hablar con un difuntoEl diálogo destruye cualquier situación macabraAntes de usar balas, diparo con palabrasPla! Pla! Pla! pla!

Coro

Hay poco dinero, pero hay muchas balasHay poca comida, pero hay muchas balasHay poco gente buena, por eso hay muchas balasCuidao' que ahí viene una (Pla! Pla! Pla! Pla!)

Hay poco dinero, pero hay muchas balasHay poca comida, pero hay muchas balasHay poco gente buena, por eso hay muchas balasCuidao' que ahí viene una (Pla! Pla! Pla! Pla!)

The Bullet

The hammer impacts the needleThe explosion of the gunpowder pushes with forceMovement of rotation and passageThe bullet leaves, cast out of the cannonWith a direct objectiveThe bullet travels sure and firm during its routeWounding the wind to death, faster than timeDefending any argumentIt doesn't care if its destiny is violentIt goes calmly, the bullet, it has no feelingsLike a secret you don't want to hearThe bullet says it all, not speakingNot raising suspicions, it assures its slaughterThat's why its belly is full of leadTo reach its prey it needs no eyesAnd more, when the path traces an infraredThe bullet never gives upIf it doesn't kill today, at least it leaves a woundAfter its exit it will not be stoppedIt obeys its master once in its life

ChorusThere's little money, but many bulletsThere's little food, but many bulletsThere are few good people, that's why there are many bulletsWatch out, here comes one (Pla! Pla! Pla! Pla!)

There's little money, but many bulletsThere's little food, but many bulletsThere are few good people, that's why there are many bulletsWatch out, here comes one (Pla! Pla! Pla! Pla!)

A gunshot is heard, it picks up confidenceThe sound chases it, but doesn't reach itThe bullet takes out its fangs of steelAnd not asking permission, enters through the skinIt bites the tissues with fury and strips downThe chest to the arteries to cause a hemorrhageThe blood returns, a strawberry shakeBolognese sauce, raspberry syrupA cascade of modern artRed-hot color, it leaves through the skull

ChorusThere's little money, but many bulletsThere's little food, but many bulletsThere are few good people, that's why there are many bulletsWatch out, here comes one (Pla! Pla! Pla! Pla!)

There's little money, but many bulletsThere's little food, but many bulletsThere are few good people, that's why there are many bulletsWatch out, here comes one (Pla! Pla! Pla! Pla!)

It would sound incomprehensible, that someone would kill youIf each bullet cost what a yacht doesYou'd have to save your whole salaryTo be a mercenary, you'd have to be a millionareBut it's not that way; tons of people are killedBullets are just as cheap as condomsThere's little education, there are many cartridgesWhen people hardly read, they shoot a lotThere are those who kill and don't show their faceThe rich man gives the order and the poor man firesBullets aren't needed to prove a pointIt's logical, a corpse can't be talked toDialogue destroys any morbid situationBefore using bullets, shoot with wordsPla! Pla! Pla! Pla!

ChorusThere's little money, but many bulletsThere's little food, but many bulletsThere are few good people, that's why there are many bulletsWatch out, here comes one (Pla! Pla! Pla! Pla!)

There's little money, but many bulletsThere's little food, but many bulletsThere are few good people, that's why there are many bulletsWatch out, here comes one (Pla! Pla! Pla! Pla!)