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Tambalea
Mala Rodríguez
Tambalea
lo que a mi me va mucho es la marcha tropical.
yo no valgo una cervecita pelá...
dame ese minuto y tambalea,la niña quiere fiesta, alguien torea,
buscala en el aire,en ese que marea,secale los labios,y ese,ese se caldea,no valgo moneda,valgo justo,tantea.mil duros por que me creas,que yo me arrimo,por el lomo se pelea,y tu jadea,jalea,jadea.como lo menea,por el lomo se pelea,jadea,jalea,jadea...
lo que a mi me va mucho es la marcha tropical,y candelita en descampao,y dormir cená,y que me den las tantonas en cualquier velá.estudio desde chica la carrera del que manda:sentao,yo tomo nota. ella no planea,ella no tantea,una mujer de su casa sus tareas,ella no ronea,ella jacarrea,si llora berrea,si quiere querrea.cada cual por su verea,poquito a poco se pierden las maneras,pero quién no culea? lo mio está en el aire,revolotea.
te vas de mi? si que sabes poco...si digo esto es esto no lo otro, yo por alpahaca bañá no me sofoco,oro de a kilo to lo que toco.
solo necesito un poquito de cuerda,mi madeja se deja desliar,no siempre quiero mas,hay veces que quiero menos, pero bueno...
sueño yo de que podria hacerlo mal pero lo hago bien,y lo se,mi papel,eso está bien,y la carne bien hecha,quien disfruta mejor que yo las fechas,izquierda,derecha,yo me muevo,se mueven las flechas,y a mi quien me reza?
Stagger
What I really love is the tropical vibe,
I'm not worth a damn without a cold beer...
Give me that minute and stagger, the girl wants a party, someone bullfights,
look for her in the air, in that dizzying one, dry her lips, and that, that heats up, not worth a dime, worth just, feel it out. A thousand bucks for you to believe me, that I get close, fights on the back, and you gasp, jelly, gasp. How she moves it, fights on the back, gasp, jelly, gasp...
What I really love is the tropical vibe, and a little candle in the open field, and sleeping after dinner, and getting the hots at any party. I've been studying since I was a girl the career of the one in charge: sitting down, I take notes. She doesn't plan, she doesn't feel it out, a woman of her house does her chores, she doesn't nag, she just talks, if she cries she bellows, if she wants she yearns. Each one on their own path, little by little manners are lost, but who doesn't screw around? Mine is in the air, fluttering.
Are you leaving me? You know little... if I say this is this, not the other, I don't get worked up over a soaked mint leaf, I touch everything like it's gold by the kilo.
I just need a little bit of rope, my tangle lets itself unravel, I don't always want more, sometimes I want less, but oh well... I dream that I could do it wrong but I do it right, and I know it, my role, that's fine, and the well-done meat, who enjoys dates better than me, left, right, I move, the arrows move, and who prays for me?
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