With goat horn and bazooka on the nape
Flying heads to those who cross
We are bloodthirsty, crazy, well waved
We like to kill
To 'lift', we are the best
Always in caravan, all my folded
Well cramped, armored and ready
To execute
With a private call they are activated
The high levels of the accelerators
Of torture, bullets and explosions
To control
People get scared and never ask
If they see the commands, when they go by
All enfierrados, well hooded
and well camuflash
They are demonized, very well commanded
Ready and to order, to make a mess
To make the contras suffer and die
to agonize
They go and make pieces, people with bullets
Continuous bursts, which do not end
Sharp knife, crossed horn
To behead
They bring minds of several, revolutionaries
Like pancho villa, fighting in guerrilla
Cleaning the ground, with bazooka and horn
What do they rumble
El Macho forward, with the commander
To end up with blights, all the anthrax virus
Violent team, bloody work
Pa 'traumatize
I'm number 1, M1 key
Backed by May and by Chapo
The JT always, present and pending
For your support, give
I will continue to grow, there are more people falling
I'm respected for a reason
Manuel Torres Felix my name
And greetings for Culiacán
Only among all we can make this a better place :)