| Brother it bicrave, it debits, it debits, it debits, it debits, it debits
|
| We need sorrel and the sight of the sun so that's bibi
|
| Hooded in the rain, there are pigs looking for us, but it's getting busy
|
| There's more money in the bank, my brother, now it's hash
|
| Banks, weapons, money, fill the bag
|
| Zeb, coke whatever it takes numbers
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| We ran out of everything, fill the bag
|
| Zeb, coke whatever it takes numbers
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| We kill them on quality
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| You're not on the quantity
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| In Morocco you drive Cayenne
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| In Paris you fly to Lafayette
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| No, it's not everyone who can become a good dealer
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| Don't invite us to the restaurant, if you run away like a thief
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| You smell home, what's in our suitcases
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| From the bastard green, ask the homies who smoke you goin' crazy
|
| Bro it's debiting, it's debiting, it's debiting, it's debiting, it's debiting, it's debiting
|
| We need sorrel and the sight of the sun so that's bibi
|
| Hooded in the rain, there are pigs looking for us, but it's getting busy
|
| There's more money in the bank, my brother, now it's hash
|
| Banks, weapons, money, fill the bag
|
| Zeb, coke whatever it takes numbers
|
| We ran out of everything, fill the bag
|
| Zeb, coke whatever it takes numbers
|
| Bro, there's no love, you want money, you have to burn
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| The street is for real, two bullets to take you away
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| A GP, a Kala' that tumbles, the friend must gallop
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| Galloping, if you're alive, brother, he missed you
|
| I come out of the wheat-ta, thousand, midnight I'm stoned
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| God forgive me, I confess, I messed up
|
| Stolen car, we only stop to deliver you
|
| We get out of jail, we make over, you'll never see us ruined
|
| Brother it bicrave, it debits, it debits, it debits, it debits, it debits
|
| We need sorrel and the sight of the sun so that's bibi
|
| Hooded in the rain, there are pigs looking for us, but it's getting busy
|
| There's more money in the bank, my brother, now it's hash
|
| Banks, weapons, money, fill the bag
|
| Zeb, coke whatever it takes numbers
|
| We ran out of everything, fill the bag
|
| Zeb, coke whatever it takes numbers
|
| Yeah, you see what I mean
|
| There's weed, there's hitting, there's hash
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| There's zippet, re-pu, there's good taros
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| Pass in the nine-four my mouth
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| Nine-four, nine-four, huh |