Borned To Be A Cumbia (Electrocumbia On My Head, Legacy In My Veins)

[Intro]
Yeah
It’s Ares
Borned to be a cumbia
Electrocumbia on my head
[Verse 1]
Stepped in the room, brim low, stitch clean
Electrocumbia tilted like it know my dreams
Tag still crisp, but the hustle ain’t new
Came from hand‑me‑down fits, now it’s cutty vibez in the stew (yeah)
Mama in the kitchen with the old‑school sway
Bare feet on tile, dust dance all day
She said “mijo, keep the rhythm when the light feel thin”
So I packed that in my veins, now it thump in my skin
City on my shoulders, got the sweat on my crown
That hat see more blocks than the bus downtown
From the swap‑meet stalls to the bright glass doors
Same kid, fresh brim, bigger faith than before
I ain’t chasing every trend, I’m protecting my flame
Name on the label but I bleed in the name
Borned to be a cumbia, every step got a sway
Even when I stand still, the ground wanna play (uh)
[Verse 2]
Pocket like Cudi in the late night phase
I just hum, then I float, let the pain vibrate
Staring at the stitch on the front, that logo shine
Thinking of the ones that believed when I ain’t have a line
Uncle had a crate full of scratched‑up wax
Static on the groove but the soul intact
He said “this that border between pain and joy”
Now it echo in my flows, every phrase deployed (yeah yeah)
I’m Ares, little god with a chip on his back
Turn trauma to a rhythm, turn the fear into facts
Every setback a step in a two‑step dance
Even heartbreak hit harder when you give it a chance
Studio night, that brim on the mic stand too
Watching while I punch in, talking my truth
Electrocumbia on the bill like a badge I earned
I put culture in the cloth, watch the world take turns
[Verse 3]
Long name, long road, but the beat stay short
Life don’t loop neat like a four‑bar chorus
Sometimes it’s silence, sometimes it’s war
Sometimes you spin solo in the middle of the floor (woah)
Abuelo in the photo with the same proud lean
Different style on his head, same shine in the seam
He ain’t hear these 808s, he ain’t see this glow
But I feel him in the pocket every time I flow
I don’t rap for the timeline, I rap for the chairs
Where the tias talk loud, kids run everywhere
Where the grill smoke mix with the late‑night air
And the hat on the table like a king sit there
Borned to be a cumbia, that’s a life, not a trend
Every snap of the brim spell “begin again”
I’m Ares in the mirror with the light turned low
Electrocumbia on my head, let the bloodline show (yeah)

rap, Dusty Latin sample chop over moody trap drums and deep sub; male vocals in a laid‑back, melodic rap pocket. Verses ride a swung, syncopated bounce with sparse keys and subtle percussive hits hinting at cumbia patterns. Occasional auto‑tuned ad‑libs float in the background; hookless structure that slowly builds with extra percussion layers and filtered vocal doubles toward the end, keeping it hypnotic and studio‑polished., cumbia