Paroles et traduction Escolta De Guerra - Así es el Ondeado

Así es el Ondeado

Siempre a la orden, del gran Padrino
De bota o huarache, su cuerno de chivo
Texana mil equis, con la voz de mando
Rodeando a la muerte, así es el Ondeado

Cuidando el terreno, de la M y la Z
Pistola en el fuego, con su M-60
Llenando panteones, asi se entretiene
El es Manuel Torres, y quien lo detiene

Con justa razón, se mira pasar
No saben si vienen, o a donde van
Reventando ranchos, recorre caminos
De polvo y asfalto, por lo de Tachio

Callos en los dedos, por jalar gatillo
Ambidiestro pal cuerno, confio del péligro
Me aprecia Zambada, y mirada altiva
Quieren la revancha, cuenta regresiva

Equipo de linea, con armas modernas
Burlando al gobierno, robando frecuencias
Hago un plan de ataque, traigo gente alerta
Granadas y parque, chaleco y pecheras

Caballo español, como un gallo activo
Mi vida es el campo, y mi bolsa de tiros
Rifles y balasos, calibran mi vida
De noche yo ataco, y también de día

Mensaje directo, de frente lo aclara
No anda con rodeos, ni esconde la cara
Es un rey de espadas, cuchillo afilado
Artilleria pesada, con firma del Mayo

Le dicen catorce, temor del contrario
Se mira al espejo, se refleja el diablo
Es muy peligroso, M1 atacando
Pues es Manuel Torres, así es el Ondeado

Waving One

Always at the order, of the great Godfather
With boots or sandals, his assault rifle
Texana thousand equis, with the voice of command
Surrounding death, that's the Waving One

Guarding the territory, of the M and the Z
Gun loaded, with his M-60
Filling up cemeteries, that's how he entertains himself
He's Manuel Torres, and who's going to stop him

With good reason, he's seen passing by
They don't know if they're coming, or where they're going
Blowing up ranches, he travels roads
Of dust and asphalt, through Tachio's place

Callouses on his fingers, from pulling the trigger
Ambidextrous with the rifle, I trust danger
I respect Zambada, and my gaze is proud
They want revenge, the countdown begins

Frontline team, with modern weapons
Outsmarting the government, intercepting frequencies
I make an attack plan, I keep my people on alert
Grenades and rounds, bulletproof vest and chest armor

Spanish horse, like an active rooster
My life is the countryside, and my bag of bullets
Rifles and bullets, they calibrate my life
I attack by night, and also by day

My message is clear, face to face
I don't beat around the bush, or hide my face
I'm the king of swords, a sharp knife
Heavy artillery, signed by El Mayo

They call him fourteen, fear of the enemy
He looks in the mirror, and sees the devil
He's very dangerous, attacking with his M1
Because he's Manuel Torres, that's the Waving One