GWA Lyrics English Translation by J Balvin
(feat. Ryan Castro & Eladio Carrión)
We roll with a solid crew
The clothes are all designer, with the AP in hand
From the neighborhoods of Medallo (Eh, avemaría)
We came from the bottom, but we don’t live a bad life
We roll with the Yeezys, with the Nikes, with the heels
With the music, we cash out, we’ve been on top for a while
The cars we race, the jets we fly
We never tone down the bling-bling, and here we are
In Medallo in the G-Wa’-Wa’-Wa’-Wa’-Wa’-Wa’-Wa’-Wa’-Wa’-Wa’-Wa’-Wa’ (Tell ’em, Ryan)
With all the girls in the G-Wa’-Wa’-Wa’-Wa’-Wa’-Wa’-Wa’-Wa’-Wa’-Wa’-Wa’-Wa’ (Leggo, OMERTA GANG)
I hop in the G-Wa’-Wa’-Wa’, I hopped in the G-Wagon
Got two B’s, one’s Balvin, the other’s Brabus
I take it to Japan just to eat some Wagyu
Then I’m back in Medayork to make a toast (Cheers)
If I’m not in Medallo, I’m in London, if not London, I’m in Rome
My family changed me, I’m a different kind of person
My flex is different, and I’m not talking zeros or commas
I just filled stadiums where they don’t understand my language
Yeah, I’m only competing with myself
I got a cloth, don’t wanna stain the Kiton suit
Who told you I was gonna fall? That’s a myth
The energy I give off is way too big
L-l-listen up
Ryan, we talk and they shut up
Around here, the verses don’t miss, I feel like Goku, Super Saiyan
I’m up in the clouds, my G, they can’t reach me no matter how hard they try
Every time I show up, they feel it
‘Cause we pull up in the G-Wa’-Wa’-Wa’-Wa’-Wa’-Wa’-Wa’-Wa’-Wa’-Wa’-Wa’-Wa’
With all the bad girls in the G-Wa’-Wa’-Wa’-Wa’-Wa’-Wa’-Wa’-Wa’-Wa’-Wa’-Wa’-Wa’ (Yeah, yeah, ah)
But in Miami in a Lamborghini
The bikes doing wheelies
The girls in bikinis, a demon and I’m not Chimi
No boss or boss lady, we’re in control here
The Cadillac is full black like it’s Donald Trump
The shine is on (Ajá)
Everything I got on is mine (Yes, sir)
Anyone talking trash is just hurt (Ajá)
Don’t flex with what ain’t yours, you ***
You fake-ass nobody
I got a flow 3XL and that hurts them
I could buy all the Gucci, but today I stepped out in the TN’s
I’m the daddy, I’m the baby, yeah
I’m the boss with Marcelo’s face on the posters
I don’t need gossip, my style is my promo
When I land a Rolex, it’s just for the collection
They saw me making money and got depressed
And I bought a mansion with my first song
A lot of money, a lot of cash, wherever I go they flash the lights
These clowns in costumes talk more than a podcast
I’m the one, I’m the freak, five hundred grand on the pinky ring
The Cuban chain with the grills, tell me, you ain’t—
Yeh, yeh, yeh, yeh
G-Wagon, AMG, Louis V in the suitcase, I can play chess
She got CHANEL in her purse, the C is backwards
If you saw my closet, you’d say “Damn, chill out”
They see the beard and the money and say “That guy’s Arab”
I let her drive, she pulled out her phone and said “Record me”
She wants to take two shots, like Ñejo and J Álvarez
When I’m in the G-Wa’, one in PR, one in DR
I’m in the G-Wa’-Wa’, ice on me like a shaved ice cart
I’m with my dogs, we’re Pitbull, you’re a Chihuahua
Cheerleader, stay watching from the bleachers
Where’d you buy your swag? On Alibaba?
At the gym, Chrome chain, not Labubu
Wallet full of blues like Blue’s Clues
Fashion killa, thirty-five carats in Harajuku
Come on, girl, connect the Bluetooth in the G-Wa’-Wa’-Wa’-Wa’-Wa’-Wa’-Wa’-Wa’-Wa’-Wa’-Wa’-Wa’
In PR in the G-Wa’-Wa’-Wa’-Wa’-Wa’-Wa’-Wa’-Wa’-Wa’-Wa’-Wa’-Wa’