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letra de bandolero (kean dysso remix) - don omar

[intro: don omar]
yo’
tego calderón
don omar
los bandolero’

[chorus: don omar]
aunque digan que soy
un bandolero donde voy
le doy gracias a dios
por hoy estar donde estoy
y vo’a seguir con mi tumba’o
y con mis ojo’ colorao’
con mi gato activa’o
ustedes to’ me lo han da’o

[verse 1: 2pac]
and uh, i started out dumb, sprung of a hood rat
listening to the radio, wishing that i could rap
but nothing changed, i was stuck in the game
’cause everybody in the industry was f-cking me, man
listen; i’ve got a scheme, break away, do my own thing
drop some conversation, sit back and let the phone ring
n-ggas ain’t wanna see me rise
97 watch me cut these motherf-ckеrs down to size
and if i catch another case, lord knows how thеy hate me
got a player in the court room, please don’t let ’em frame me
i’ve been dealt a lot of bad cards living as a thug
count my blessings and throw my stressings in this land with no love
maybe they see me rolling, look at all this green i’m holding
i get this why they envious and get their eyes swollen
hoping the heavenly father love a hustler
meet the hardest n-gga on the earth to ever bust a nut
[chorus: don omar]
aunque digan que soy
un bandolero donde voy
le doy gracias a dios
por hoy estar donde estoy
y vo’a seguir con mi tumba’o
y con mis ojo’ colorao’
con mi gato activa’o
ustedes to’ me lo han da’o

[verse 2: 2pac]
i see no changes, all i see is racist faces
misplaced hate makes disgrace to races
we under, i wonder what it takes to make this
one better place, let’s erase the wasted
take the evil out the people, they’ll be actin’ right
’cause both black and white are smokin’ crack tonight
and the only time we chill is when we k!ll each other
(k!ll each other)
it takes sk!ll to be real, time to heal each other
and although it seems heaven-sent
we ain’t ready to see a black president, uh
(oh-ooh)
it ain’t a secret, don’t conceal the fact
the penitentiary’s packed and it’s filled with blacks
wake up in the morning and i ask myself
is life worth livin’? should i blast myself?
i’m tired of bein’ poor and, even worse, i’m black
my stomach hurts so i’m lookin’ for a purse to sn-tch
[chorus: don omar]
aunque digan que soy
un bandolero donde voy
le doy gracias a dios
por hoy estar donde estoy
y vo’a seguir con mi tumba’o
y con mis ojo’ colorao’
con mi gato activa’o
ustedes to’ me lo han da’o

[verse 3: 50 cent]
listen, you can call me what you want, black and ugly
but you can’t convince me the lord don’t love me
when my cd’s drop, they sell the best
you call it luck, why can’t it just be i’m blessed
i’m a track star runnin’ through life chasin’ my dreams
best deal i made was tradin’ the mic for that triple beam
i zone off thinkin’ is there really heaven or h-ll
if so what happens to a changed man that dies in a cell?
i need no answers to these questions, ’cause time will tell
got a date with destiny, she’s more than a girl
don’t much good come from me, but my music
it’s a gift given from god, so i’ma use it
i need no answers to these questions, ’cause time will tell
got a date with destiny, she’s more than a girl
don’t much good come from me, but my music
it’s a gift given from god, so i’ma use it – yeah
a o.g. told me god’s favorites have a hard time
you’re out the hood, that’s good, now stay on the grind
i’m a sponge, knowledge, and wisdom i ab-sorb fast
i’m in a class by myself, you do the math
[chorus: don omar]
aunque digan que soy
un bandolero donde voy
le doy gracias a dios
por hoy estar donde estoy
y vo’a seguir con mi tumba’o
y con mis ojo’ colorao’
con mi gato activa’o
ustedes to’ me lo han da’o

[verse 4: eminem]
i sit back with this pack of zig-zag’s and this bag
of this weed, it gives me the sh-t needed to be
the most meanest mc on this, on this earth
and since birth i’ve been cursed with this curse to just curse
and just blurt this berserk and bizarre sh-t that works
and it sells and it helps in itself to relieve
all this tension, dispensin’ these sentences
gettin’ this stress that’s been eatin’ me recently off
of this chest and i rest again peacefully (peacefully)
but at least have the decency in you
to leave me alone, when you freaks see me out
in the streets when i’m eatin’ or feedin’ my daughter
to not come and speak to me (speak to me), i don’t know you
and no, i don’t owe you a motherf-ckin’ thing
i’m not mr. -nsync, i’m not what your friends think
i’m not mr. friendly, i can be a-

[verse 5: notorious b.i.g.]
i know how it feel to wake up f-cked up
pockets broke as h-ll, another rock to sell
people look at you like you’s the user
sellin’ drugs to all the losers, mad buddha abuser
but they don’t know about your stress-filled day
baby on the way, mad bills to pay
that’s why you drink tanqueray, so you can reminisce
and wish, you wasn’t livin’ so devilish
i remember i was just like you
smokin’ blunts with my crew, flippin’ over 62’s
’cause g-e-d wasn’t b-i-g
i had to get p-a-i-d, that’s why my moms hate me
she was forced to kick me out, no doubt
then i figured out nicks went for 20s down south
packed up my tools for my raw power move
glock 19 for casket and flower moves

[verse: 6: 2pac]
haha, watch me clown, give me lovin’ when i’m high
i’m a outlaw baby, i’ll be thuggin’ ’til i die
in my drop-top, double-r, life as a rap star
hustle like a crack fiend ’til they catch me
go ask somebody to your show
watchin n-ggas out of sight, in my night scope
cookin’ white dope, got my n-gga 25-to-life stressed out
tryin’ to have all the better things in life
while makaveli — a born leader, 10 millimeter
change a n-gga’s future like a schizophrenic palm reader
heed, from out the bible i read
see the meek shall inherit the earth
and the strong will lead
hittin’ weed like it’s alright
i’m in the studio makin’ music all night
my enemies cry whenever i rise, they hated ’til the death
tryin’ to beat me out my last breath
whatcha gonna do?

[verse 7: big l]
ayo, you better flee hops, or get your head flown three blocks
l keep rappers’ hearts pumpin’ like reeboks
and every year i gain clout and my name sprouts
some brothers’d still be virgins if crack never came out
i got the wild style
always been a foul child
my guns go “boom boom!” and yo’ guns go “pow pow”
i’m known to have a hottie open
i keep the shotty smokin’
front, and get half the bones in your body broken
and when it comes to gettin’ nookie i’m not a rookie
i got girls that make that chick toni braxton look like whoopi
i run with st-rdy cliques
i’m never hittin’ dirty chicks
got thirty-five bodies, buddy, don’t make it thirty-six
step to this, you’re good as gone
word is born, i leave mics torn when i put it on
n0body can take nothin’ from big l but a loss, chief
the last punk who fronted got a mouth full of false t–th

[verse 8: don omar]
diablo, que cherreo
me cogí un caso y apuntaron el de’o
ya no era el rey del perreo
ahora era tecato, y otro posible reo
que me metieran preso to’s dijeron, mal los veo
yo no les creo, a su sistema de reformación ingrato
a mí me arrestaron dos puerco’ por pasar el rato
y yo aquí pichando, aguantando, callando
si nadie es perfecto, ¿de qué me están juzgando?
y hacer con mi vida lo que cualquiera puede
vivir como quiere, tener sus placere’
mi gente, yo no soy distinto a ustede’
y hoy en día, soy cantante por que ustedes quieren
me dieron las primeras plana’
“cogen rapero con marihuana, pistola y cosa’ rara'”
solo quedara en su mente clara
cuando crezcan donde yo crecí, y se críen donde me criaba

[verse 9: eazy-e]
aw yeah, let’s take a trip
just sit back and light a spliff with this and don’t slip
on a funky-dope track, jump back
strapped with a fat buddha sack and a 7-8 ‘lac
come clean, gangsta lean, i got green
bud, i serve dubs like it ain’t no thing
i hang with og playas, don’t set trip
or you might get what we call a rat pack
i don’t slack when it come to street
i kick real g-funk to a gangsta beat
it’s so sweet, when you got money to spend
i got a proper big tilt and a fly-big benz
i make ends, spend my dough on no foe
that’s how it is, and that’s how it goes
act like you know when i creep real slow
givin’ love to them players that i know is real g’s

[verse 10: ice cube]
just wakin’ up in the morning, gotta thank god
i don’t know, but today seems kinda odd
no barking from the dog, no smog
and momma cooked a breakfast with no hog
i got my grub on, but didn’t pig out
finally got a call from a girl i wanna dig out
hooked it up for later as i hit the door
thinkin’, “will i live another twenty-four?”
i gotta go ’cause i got me a drop-top
and if i hit the switch, i can make the ass drop
had to stop at a red light
lookin’ in my mirror and not a jacker in sight
and everything is alright
i got a beep from kim, and she can f-ck all night
called up the homies and i’m askin’ y’all
“which park are y’all playin’ basketball?”

[verse 11: xzibit]
mc’s get f-cked up, chopped like braveheart
don’t start what you can’t finish, serious bidness
down la seneca to bust a left on venice
where you can find me and mines — los angeles times
where every other day i’m taking the hat off my head
givin respect to the dead, and avoid havin the same thing
said about me, xzibit stand underground
like the roots of a tree, watered three times a day
forty ounce olde e, like a magnifying glass
making it easier to see, the mister x to the z
don’t peak, l.a., why test without vest-es
stop lead projectile, apocalypse now
love allah not new car, f-ggot, superstar
type of cat, f-ck that, mash away in a
diamond-white concourse ‘llac
still black so the one-time react as if under attack

[verse 12: method man]
they call me big john studd, my middle name mud
dirty water flow, too much for you thug
they can’t stand the flood– what up, doc?
hold big gun like elmer fudd, the sureshot
mr. meth i’m unplugged (learn!)
temperatures too hot for sunblock (burn!)
playin’ wit’ minds that get you state time
locked behind 12 bars from a great mind
k!lla bees in the club wit’ this ladybug
brought a sword to the dance floor to cut a rug
love is love all day, ’til they throw slugs
and take another life in cold blood, can’t feel me ’til its your blood
murder rates tremendous, crime is endless
same sh-t different day, father forgive us
they know not what they do, all praise is due
i’m big like e-z and big bambu

[verse 13: snoop dogg]
(it’s the d-o-double, ya don’t run up ya won’t see no trouble)
if you caught up in these f-ckin’ streets
(who you gon’ call when them n-ggas gettin’ ready to blast?)
yeah, and if that sh-t’s gettin’ ugly
(who you gon’ call when them n-ggas come to get in ya ass?)
i came to get in that ass, bigg di-dogg, push the big hid-ogg
you’re hoppin’ and poppin’, how bout you hop up off my bid-alls
got dirt on my pid-aws, i broke a few lid-aws
it really don’t matter cause i’m only here to spit on
and get on and sh-t on n-ggas
do it to ’em d-o-double, right on n-gga
i’m saggin’ it, baggin’ it, slangin’ dubs
you motherf-ckers think the wash is all soap and suds?
what’s up cuz?
if you tryin’ to get a dub sack page me
the hoes say “dee loc, you so crazy”

[verse 14: big punisher]
yo, i’m all about business and enterprisin’
advisin’ financial advisors on franchisin’ to widen their horizons
divisin’ ideas with master-minders
movin’ on a stash with diamonds
first we get the cash, then we laugh like mynas
don’t get me wrong, i’m a funny b-st-rd
but when it come to money, done, i’m not the one to laugh with
i’m after for what cash can bring me, brothers
me and my demon lovers blast and laugh like hyenas
back to ringling brothers
believe them others you’re the best
yes, and still i’m investin’ mils on a hunch over lunch
puffin’ on a chesterfield
who want test the real scandalous?
i’m at the sands in los angeles
plannin’ hits with anonymous philanthropists
spanish kids, close to god like evangelists
choppin’ n-ggas up and makin’ sandwiches
we gettin’ knots like stockbrokers who own marriotts
blast shots for all my n-ggas who splash cops

[refrain: don omar]
aunque digan que soy
un bandolero donde voy
le doy gracias a dios
por hoy estar donde estoy
y vo’a seguir con mi tumba’o
y con mis ojo’ colorao’
con mi gato activa’o
ustedes to’ me lo han da’o

[outro: don omar]
echo
the lab
los bandolero’
tego calderón
diesel, ponle pila’ a esto
don omar y tego calderón
haciendo historia en la música
los bandolero’
¡echo!

- don omar

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