There are looks, looks, looks at us
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There are looks, looks, looks at us
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Just like that, man, what the fuck are you going to murder?
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Ah, a, a
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Ominous glances focused on us
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Like handcuffed, locked in a bitch
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They bring two mean murders to the headquarters
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I must endure the heat of the sight
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They take me out, they do the same with my homie
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I want to tell him, but I feel tonfa in my ribs
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In the interrogation room, light in the eyes, drill
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I feel the eyes from behind the Venetian mirror
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Not one bend of life, two origins
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Because a generation should leave the blocks of flats young
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Three for truth, four for insubordination
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I'm vulgar, so they're right
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I'm losing consciousness, you know it's not a bluff
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They'll throw me water, I can hear them laughing
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My words, versions are a crime, a crime
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They drag me to a cell like an electric chair
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I see a friend also says nothing
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Beyond the words "live" and "let live"
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You're looking at me, see, hey you're looking at me
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As if I killed your mother and father at least
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That's what it looks like
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I'm doing rap it's like the most serious crime |
Look at you, here we differ in views
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You would put me in shackles most willingly
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I'd rather you just shut my mouth
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Congratulations on the idea, but it won't be
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Because, see, our fucking rap is everywhere
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You can hear about us, this music is like air
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You know that this city breathes it
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Without us, there would be linden and that's it, and you're looking
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You mutter something under your breath, you stare
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You point out quarrels with us, and you can't do anything
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You're like, anyway, I don't want to say anything
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With the last verse, I'll make you disappear
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Beyond the words: "man, live and let live"
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Listen to this, it's like that, exactly like that
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I look, I see the dog walking, you know me
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You know the text that it's easier to hate
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Than to be normal, than to sympathize
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Than to harmonize, than to fucking nerve
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Because what am I good, you look where the break is
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Get pissed off at Fugla, be envious
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Like all those other cunts
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do you know me? |
And since he is in rap, you cross it out
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What are you? |
I do it because it is fashionable, because there is demand
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You're the one who thinks about it, and we've been here for years
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We play our games, we have an opinion about people like you |
We have our people like you
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We have enemies like you
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We have, but enemies for no reason
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Like you, it makes no sense
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Like P.I.H., I play open cards
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Like none of you, I have a reason to write this
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Surely those who write about them
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They won't think it's about them, no
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Probably those who think about them ask: «Who is this?»
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You know, pissed off, because from the same earth
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But others eat bread, motherfuckers |