About “Golazo! (Vago Remix)” by Los Chicos Criollos

Golazo! Song Lyrics

[Chorus] Cantalo! Cantalo! Cantalo! Cantalo!
Cantalo! Cantalo! Cantalo! Cantalo!
Cantalo! Cantalo! Cantalo! Cantalo!
Cantalo! Cantalo! Cantalo! Cantalo!

Che Uno [Verse]

Cantalo
lo cagamos a palo
dardos criollo como ocho hecho a mano
let em off like petardo
travel largo
te la meto en el arco
golazo
whut up gaucho
Kingdom applauso
powerful Milagro
we give a cloud full
puro humo uno ninguno can out do
ché parts missing
pulp fiction in el auto
re sarpado Emiliano te la atajo
segui bailando
yo sigo avanzando
the King and I
Crack da wiesel
lethal cuando largo
Fernando Redondo
smokin in Belgrano
Androgue
high potent
im focus
you’ve noticed
psychosis
Urbana
chupala
my slogan

[Chorus] Cantalo! Cantalo! Cantalo! Cantalo!
Cantalo! Cantalo! Cantalo! Cantalo!
Cantalo! Cantalo! Cantalo! Cantalo!
Cantalo! Cantalo! Cantalo! Cantalo!

Kingdom Kome [Verse]

I put that nine on ya back like Batistuta
Falto envido Nuevo disco
Pleno centro como el obelisco
A si escuchan
Los Chicos Criollos camiseta se debuta
Se viene la lluvia
Raja si tienen la duda
Bajo la luna occulta
Escribo como Pablo Neruda
Con una puta desnuda
Que me cocina huevo fritos y pechuga
El conejo pierde a la tortuga
Sharp shooters spark rugers
Life threatening like heart tumors
Sharp wit mixed with dark humor
Bars lit la brea tar pit
Super like Mark Duper
As real as this shit there’s far fewer
Killin’ shit es mi vicio
Ra Sun & King
bustin shots a Los milicos
Para Los pibes en la esquina
Tita y Rhodesia
We bring las golosinas

[Chorus] Cantalo! Cantalo! Cantalo! Cantalo!
Cantalo! Cantalo! Cantalo! Cantalo!
Cantalo! Cantalo! Cantalo! Cantalo!
Cantalo! Cantalo! Cantalo! Cantalo!

Cousin Feo [Verse]

A yo check it, drop another golazo
And watch the score change
Yeah, the flow grimey like a storm drain
The stash spots for the fire like they Fort Wayne
Came a long way from fucking short gain
When it’s grim I’m the grim reaper
in a gold chain
You a tombstone in the cemetery a no name
I need more haze
you ain’t a god cuz you adore praise
I spit blood and I smoke pain
Glow like cocaine from the old days
It’s all business no baggage just a briefcase
here to Kill ya chief
and the scalp is just a keepsake
They found em with his wig pushed back
like a release date
I told you ain’t no love in the streets
It’s only deep hate
Cuz when you running with crooks
It’s hard to keep straight
The homies keep heat
like they grand mommas ‘ll keep faith
But me waiting on a pack already weeks late

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