Lyrics:
sługa, jeśli ma hulać, weź selen
Sztuką, by w PL mielić PLN
Bez płyty status bestseller
Tatuś nie daje na benę
Dwa osiem euro za cegłę
Tego nie upchasz
then the DJ's shit and he simply must die
Bang to the head, bang to the balls
Bang to your bitch in an IKEA bed
Get the gang round, that's a gangbang
titul kurva roka
Keby ide o chlapa tak je to hrdina a bon vival
No je to žena tak je to šľapka čo smrdí jak kólia
Ale za čo by sa hanbila, robí to čo
a whole lot of
Guap that I ran up
Motivated by all the hate I see
Bitch, I slide with the tank on full
Even when the tank on E
Bitch, I don't
Everyone said
Albo „Przestań się flexować sianem od rodziców"
Banan to na mordzie kiedy leję z takich typów
„Bez hajsu tatusia by tak łatwo to nie było"
Jednak żeby
slang 'caine, gangbang, remain sane
If it's even possible, a nigga gotta maintain
We put little bags of rocks in the hands of children
And conceal them
it's the Brown Crowd night
And everything will be alright
So get up, go out, and do the brown thing
Let's cruise, no need to gangbang
So get ready, dress
(Schöneberg)
Jeder Tag war wie der letzte (jeder)
Fick die Bullen, kenn' meine Rechte (fick)
Meine Kugeln in dein Thorax (Drive-By)
Schieße weiter, bis du
das Mic weg und schubs dich von der Bühne
(Ey was soll das?)
Du Schwuchtel musst noch üben
Für die Nutten gibt es Prügel, es ist Drive-by, ich schieß
or not, nigga
South Central, the gangbang capital
Where gun fire's ramped, the one time be gafflin'
Murder is a headline
Half an ounce of chronic is
The rucas with no clothes
Used to drop the two-door
Gang-bang in a four door
Puttin' bullet holes
In the doors of a Ford Explorer
Hard-core, and I got
on the street, never carry a nine
Hit your heart and leave you staggerin like moonshine
Get ill as shit, shootin' celo
Got so much money, think I'm sellin' by
of dealin these killins
It's another hustle everyday but I maintain
Caught up in this struggle, so I refuse to gangbang
Got my mind on bigtime, that this
about respect?
I'll put your bitch in check, and I'll bet
You won't run up, son of a punk and a bitch, too
I shoulda did a drive by on you and your
[Chorus - 2x]
My life is sweet
You could tell by the Benz and the Beamers and the Jeeps
Big wheels, big grills make them say oooh-weee
Custom made
All my niggas gangbang
Black flag on the right side
Glock 40s got clips
Ski masks on the night time
Light that bitch nigga up
Might not be a next
Never gang-bang, but I can call 'em if I need to
My homies was crippin' so hard, all they eat is seafood
Had a manager named Bellow he used to teach me
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