Skippa - Narrativas

I'm going to show you a piece of paper, a photo and the name of your son
It's going to be written as a Latin international terrorist
It's part of the narrative, they want to cover me up
All I have to do is give them a list, but mom, I'm just an artist
I grew up on this shit, Raul took me to the gringo
I came to this holy land, you're from the United States
A company runs a job, a European discovers an Indian
She dances the whole dance, but it's not just a lie
I dream a little, everyone talks
The proletarian people