| Welcome to the pen, bitch, Gerard is home.
|
| Who will give you hemorrhoids, condom?
|
| There is a demon tone, a blood clot stinks of a hair dryer.
|
| Yes, the brood is furious and foaming at the mouth.
|
| The malice of the ragged groups -
|
| It's a classic, nigga, like a May Day cube
|
| You be aware, sweetie, the ghetto is not a joke,
|
| They'll cut you to hell here, bitch, and it's not a joke.
|
| A kid, a background of clapping people.
|
| The bike, brother, is not racing, like a Nasa bike in pursuit.
|
| Representing the elite con, every white house
|
| 42nd, 37th - understood about whom?
|
| Whose fire did you understand? |
| You are a tripod from the bottom.
|
| Heard about my beagle style? |
| Don't touch the sand.
|
| They stomp their feet at the call, the gods are cursing here for the dogs.
|
| Who is strictly in the face,
|
| As a result, not juice from a tomato flows from abrasions.
|
| And locomotives that do not run in kindergartens,
|
| They blow them out, they give smoke here.
|
| Drap is being driven south, and there are countless currencies,
|
| No tears people, bye-bye. |
| Himself, nigga, I give the mixture.
|
| I'm on the alert with a check, so as not to break my fins.
|
| The organs are united like a caste.
|
| Dangerous, do not pass, but I will not let them fall.
|
| Sham, how are you? |
| From my furs to your salam.
|
| Heroes of the bottom are free from sleep.
|
| Hungry gums rubbed red.
|
| Only gloomy places, only gray tones.
|
| My bathyscaphe, dragged, hides the depth. |
| (x2)
|
| Shama:
|
| And even if I have never been fucking in these States,
|
| And sit the tent grew, where the mines are closed,
|
| Where are the cattle companies, Saturday is a holiday for them,
|
| Clinking glasses, typical trash meat.
|
| The soul of my land just loves madmen.
|
| Whose rap from the south allows you to change shoes,
|
| Whose boots are smiling and not torn,
|
| And not one bark is able to knock Sui off course.
|
| Where the compositions leave coal to the region,
|
| Just like snow and any speed.
|
| Dreams come true if you hit heads
|
| And not to count someone else's pocket and stupidly wait for adjustments.
|
| Are you jealous of me? |
| In vain, go put an end to yourself.
|
| If you speak worthily, you will be rewarded.
|
| It's unnecessary to climb, take off your cheap blanket.
|
| I'm not here for a bucket of coins, my rap is the southern coat of arms.
|
| Not corrupt, and did not see a reflection in this.
|
| I already have everything fine, fuck off doing an inventory.
|
| I'm not into crime, I didn't raise points in cash.
|
| I am the one who will tear off your fuck for the truth.
|
| I'm not in the mafia and was not laced,
|
| But this rapper is like $42 million.
|
| Think for yourself who burns the poles.
|
| Sui def jam is the best method for the mind.
|
| Heroes of the bottom are free from sleep.
|
| Hungry gums rubbed red.
|
| Only gloomy places, only gray tones.
|
| My bathyscaphe, dragged, hides the depth. |
| (x2) |