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KaléKalé 

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Kalé

The Romani, also spelled Romany or Rromani ( ROH-mə-nee or ROM-ə-nee) and colloquially known as the Roma (sg.: Rom), are an ethnic group of Indo-Aryan origin who traditionally lived a nomadic, itinerant lifestyle. Linguistic and genetic evidence suggests that the Romani originated in the Indian subcontinent, in particular the region of present-day Rajasthan. Their subsequent westward migration, possibly in waves, is now believed by historians to have occurred around 1000 CE. Their original name is from the Sanskrit word डोम, ḍoma and means a member of the Dom caste of travelling musicians and dancers. The Roma population moved west into the Ghaznavid Empire and later into the Byzantine Empire. The Roma are thought to have arrived in Europe around the 13th to … more »

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I sit in my mind
I think of a plan and devise
I told them to open their eyes
Bpm 135
If I'm gonna spit on a track
Then I'm going to shine
I'm getting bread ain't no rye
You say you stick
With a stick
But I know it's a lie
Ten toes down I arrive
I lurk in the shadows
And you don't want smoke when its night

I play with a pole in a fight
He claim that I'm wrong
Well I'm going to show him I'm right
Head to the light
They know I'm starting a battle
This shit I'm going to start out of spite
Look at my money I made it
I'm stacking these pages
This shit is increasing my height
People they talk on my name
And they trying to debate
I really don't care it's alright

Hold up
Where am I at
I get these bitches
They hitting my at
I get these hoes they hit me on snap
People they talk on my name
I tell them to shut up
I tell them relax

Only one with a philosophy
I get a stick I'm going to up it
Then I'm going to buss it
And shoot at his arteries
When I get mad I'm going to make a scene
I'm in the whip yeah the limousine
Head to the shop for some nicotine
Talk to my friends I'm the biggest fiend
Freddy Kruger kill you in your dreams

Money (Yeah)
Hoes (Yeah)
Bitches (Yeah)
Clothes (Yeah)
Friends (Yeah)
Foes (Yeah)
Friends (Yeah)
Foes (Yeah)

I sit in my mind
I think of a plan and devise
I told them to open their eyes
Bpm 135
If I'm gonna spit on a track
Then I'm going to shine
I'm getting bread ain't no rye
You say you stick
With a stick
But I know it's a lie
Ten toes down I arrive
I lurk in the shadows
And you don't want smoke when its

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