| That's it
|
| I've already been criticized for meshing
|
| Alone when I wet the jersey
|
| The street let us down, in a dead end dream
|
| If I slip it's die
|
| Where I come from there is no seille-o
|
| We kill each other for the core
|
| The street let us down, in a dead end dream
|
| If I slip it's die
|
| I live at the gates of crime, I'm not a flashlight
|
| Don't follow me, MC you'll sprain yourself
|
| An arrow in the back, a bullet in the chest
|
| Motherfuckers peek at you when you're doing it
|
| I don't have time anymore akhi let me brave the storm
|
| I don't care about their opinion my urine in their trumpet
|
| Window licker, I write my little rhymes
|
| I embellish my sad life trying not to wallow
|
| Did you see the hole, I'm nervous, where are my brothers?
|
| I'm too close to the enemy, I don't see them anymore
|
| I'm on my way, nothing says it's going che-mar
|
| But the guys who told me to be expensive are starting to tell me
|
| Akhi
|
| That's it
|
| I've already been criticized for meshing
|
| Alone when I wet the jersey
|
| The street let us down, in a dead end dream
|
| If I slip it's die
|
| Where I come from there is no seille-o
|
| We kill each other for the core
|
| The street let us down, in a dead end dream
|
| If I slip it's die
|
| I count on nobody, because in truth
|
| Even your shadow wanders off in the dark
|
| Far from being heir, go put replay
|
| That I kick, race the American dream
|
| No more laugh bars when you have more slips
|
| Guys in birh will say you're horrible shit
|
| In street art we choose to rap
|
| If it had to be done again, I would have listened to the daron
|
| It's better to have dirhams, get away from the haram
|
| Than to sign autographs on banana skins
|
| I'm on my way, nothing says it's going che-mar
|
| But the guys who told me to be expensive are starting to tell me
|
| Akhi
|
| That's it
|
| I've already been criticized for meshing
|
| Alone when I wet the jersey
|
| The street let us down, in a dead end dream
|
| If I slip it's die
|
| Where I come from there is no seille-o
|
| We kill each other for the core
|
| The street let us down, in a dead end dream
|
| If I slip it's die |