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From where the palms touch the sky
It was the place where my 'ama' gave me life.
And an agricultural heart was what saw me grow up.
In the house there were no luxuries, but there was no hunger either.
On the table there was food for the whole family
I remember that well.
In the grooves of yellow gold
I knew what morillo's work was
And in the dies I rode with my 'apá
A cap and a plaid shirt
It was what was seen in the fields
And a water bule quenched my thirst.
How beautiful when the harvest arrived
All fifteen in trucks I walked
And this one is dedicated to all my countrymen
Up Sinaloa!
There really is nothing more beautiful
Remember that chamba on the plot
Buy the bike with a pinch of cotton
We were not lucky enough to have an inheritance
But yes with a lot of desire not to stay with desire
Someday Living Better
And even if the feet are fit me the Italians
I miss those scraped shoes more
What I wore to go to study
No matter how many select meats I eat
Some beans with tortilla I crave
And a machaca is the best delicacy
Proudly come from fine people
Fortunately I'm from Sinaloa
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