Everyone says that black people
Have an innate natural talent
For sports, for singing, for dancing, for all that
And a superlative and enviable caliber of sex
Everyone says that the Chinese
They catch the cat and the grandpa and make them into mincemeat
'Pa' mételo', in the rolls, oh scoundrel
Send balls with the millennial China
Everyone says that the elf belongs to the gypsies
You put them in the rehousing apartment
And they rip out pipes, sinks, There's a donkey in the eighth
ÃÂGood gypsies? As in all the halos
All women say that all men are equal
Every man says about that mystery that is the woman
Unfathomable, homo, hetero, bi-tri, not even with you not even without you
My ills have a remedy
And I who aspired to Johnny Weismuller
I am the joke of the lifeguards
And I who aspired to Maradona
I finished in cocaine I read and disen
Oh, street poets
Oh, poetry in motion
There are poets who lower their fly
There is, there is , there are, there are, there are, there are, oh poets
Just as there were flowers there were buds
That wanted to dent my smile
With their truths like fists
And not even That's why you're crazy, he smiled, I'm breaking my ass Don't scratch me
That's now, because before
It hurt so much that I tried to commit suicide
Drowning my brown flesh in Coca Cola
Taking an aspirin with Bayleis
And I wanted to go down to hell playing
The 'Stairway To Heaven' backwards
Nothing is as you see it
And if you see it you don't believe it
I see, I see, what do you see
Everyone knows
And I aspired to Mariano José de Larra
I ended up in Mariñas
And I who aspired to Joan Manuel Serrat they lower their fly
There is, there is, there is, there is, there is, there are, oh poets

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