| It's a heartbeat
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| It's a bloody pulse of the asphalt and its chaos
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| A knockout, the voice of social cases, bunkers
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| We all exploded from above
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| For all our soldiers below
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| High Risk Style
|
| Apocalypse now
|
| This is my fight
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| It's the name of your death
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| It's "fuck the schmits" smeared on a wall
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| A sonic homicide
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| The Blade and the Armor
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| The alarm, the whisper of the gun
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| The soul of a dead hip hop
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| A fucking heist
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| At the blocks, I casdèd and kick without drop
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| It's specific to the ghettos
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| Don't stop, we're banging instrumentals
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| And top rhyme heads, look out
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| The end is coming soon
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| It's those dirty halls
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| Those sick raps
|
| These guys in jail
|
| These kids that we sell off
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| Those who have the dirty role and sail on the Amistad
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| It's hate married to love
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| From sorrow chained to rage
|
| The storm in our veins
|
| A stage, the crowd, and a fucking Shure
|
| It's bad like those who bleed (bleed)
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| All the days that God makes (bleeds)
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| For all the deaf, there are our blazes on the sign
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| It's an open wound
|
| This verse alerts him
|
| You motherfucker group
|
| A fucking lyric coupled with lightning
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| It's a chase followed by a squeal
|
| A sequel to drama
|
| Good and bad deeds
|
| These creaking boxes
|
| And all these slogans we brandish
|
| This flame in the eyes of my little brothers who grew up too quickly
|
| It's back to dark, true and rough trips to the sounds of the street
|
| Many pigs growl
|
| Too raw, the rhyme scares
|
| In the shadows we were thought to be in retreat
|
| Far from the hits, a new extract, a beat, a mic, two MC's, a bomb
|
| It's all these bodies falling in the rain of bullets
|
| The ones we forget, that the cops seal empty pockets and lying on the slab
|
| It's all these murderous pains
|
| The very essence of rap. |
| my colors
|
| It is these hopes that your state cal-cines
|
| That's what fascinates kids who dream of bundles
|
| With no roots too close to the fucking pit, and the demon entwine
|
| It's a sign, it's damn song of the schlass before that of the swan
|
| Too powerful, the salt of tears, the smell of blood, the hate of the badge
|
| It's day and night
|
| What harms the system
|
| This amazing flow
|
| If you like it, nod "yes"
|
| And the theme is (Ärsenik)
|
| It's him, her, them, you, me and the other
|
| Fire your baptism
|
| The one who hates the army and wallowing motherfuckers
|
| It's a raised fist
|
| A big raised finger
|
| Addressed to whom it may concern
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| Anti-CRS and trained dogs
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| It's massive Villiers-le-Bel, Ghetto stars with heavy passive
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| My harmful experience
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| Something survived... |