| -Pseudo-DA: You see, fear is quite easy actually huh...
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| you make a track that sticks to the line of the audience… a production
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| of today, which smells good of America… I have contacts in Paris,
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| without that you won't get your head out of the water huh
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| -Wowowowowowo basta, basta, basta... you're starting to bust my balls with it
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| your stories there...
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| - Am I drunk?
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| -Yeah it pisses me off, yeah it pisses me off… Who told you we wanted to breathe?
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| Who told you we wanted to get our heads above water? |
| Come on,
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| now you go out
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| They'll say the beard rattles, it's soggy with the hash
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| But at my table we talk rap and rude people talk numbers
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| Hey man I'm not in the mood to laugh, nor to cry either man
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| I'm on the other side of the bank, where the buttered men don't hurt anymore
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| Knowledge is a weapon? |
| I was only taught the essentials
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| Me raised on the potato, the brick, the old ones
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| Here there are no traitors, reassure my back
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| If knowledge is a big weapon
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| I declare a blade, you will surely find others
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| Sprinkled with stains my skin is devilry and voodoo
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| The beard laughs, the vultures, my barbarism is worth them all
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| Bars of laughter, the street was the daycare center and its executives
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| We spoke rhymes, I associated gendarmerie and C4
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| Talk to me about hate, I'll understand you
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| Of the power of your kings, of the rat, of your queens, of the madman who would be hanged
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| Spare me your tales of times of peace and heartache
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| Thug, see, the street scares me when it's full of cops
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| Of hate and lukewarm water
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| After Testa Nera comes lightning
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| Standing on the plain my bones hold me
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| It may be that year, don't give a fuck
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| So suffers a nearly deaf stranded man
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| Is it the flute you wanted to play for him? |
| Come on blow
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| If ever everything falls apart then who helps him?
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| You thought I hit rock bottom, but I'm still digging right now
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| That indecent melody my shovel sang
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| It's an inaudible sound, a descent I've barely begun
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| I had too much weight, you, what would you have left? |
| Your rhymes?
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| I left hope there in a gallery of the 3rd tunnel, it's terrible
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| Where females and males suffer and limp and leave full
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| Me, I was writing the weight of evil under the weight of the cinder blocks
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| My foot sucks and my voice shits in the mud
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| I wasn't born with a silver spoon but a Mawashi in my mouth
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| Man, I'm writing these lines in the middle of the waters
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| Six meters from the core of the earth, 20,000 leagues from others
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| Where the light does not pass, sublime
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| Where the mutt or the man who can't fight begs
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| Talk to me about hate, I'll understand you
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| Of the power of your kings, of the rat, of your queens, of the redhead that we would hang
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| Spare me your stories of fucks, dicks between sisters
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| I hope you spotted the road, I stay here you go home alone
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| This, this, is this a joke?
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| You hear me?
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| You hear me?
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| No, I did not spot the galleries!
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| Of hate and lukewarm water
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| After Testa Nera comes lightning
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| Standing on the plain my bones hold me
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| It may be that year, don't give a fuck
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| So suffers a nearly deaf stranded man
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| Is it the flute you wanted to play for him? |
| Come on blow
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| If ever everything falls apart then who helps him?
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| You thought I hit rock bottom, but I'm still digging right now |