[Intro]
Give me my cash, kho
Quick, give me my cash, kho
Come on, give me my cash, kho
[Verso 1]
There is life, its good side, I'm on the other shore boy
Everyone listen to me, you can find me in the Fnac or on a wiretape
Risky because I made it alone
I don't care to get in the Bains-Douches, nigga I'm rich
Odd since the beginning, bag full of familly issues
It's like babies' EPO
In this cartel we may die wanted, covered with bullets
But we will stay true, so you can remember us
My crew, I'm working hard for them
I hesitate only if a piece of hash clogs the barrel
I drank a Seine full of dead bodies
Kid, you just bought new Air Max, don't tight your veins with its laces
If you're black, either from a hood or a manor
You won't go far, just sell crack or score 3 points, that's what they think
I saw the past kidnap the future
I saw the present sucking dicks, I saw all my niggas on a boat
[Instrumental Bridge]
[Verso 2]
Oh yeah ? You talk like this ?
So with a cut in the intestines, you will also leave like this faggot
We made it alone, from the underground to the roof without a map
It starts with a caress, ends up with a finger in the ass
It comes from Boulogne, you can see the fervor in our eyes
Fed with drugs, our whole being is illicit, some business
I've got Adebisi's moral, you know what I mean
I only have my guts, my hip hop and some principles
You know, it has been 8 years now, liars are dying
I'm filling lyrical hospitals
What ? I feel sad when I look at this century
Where hail of bullets are heating the climate
You see, that's the song of the thugs, little man
Today I'm here, Yersterday I died under 41 bullets
Too dark, like a fake Pascal
Mad Max generation, born in the magma
[Instrumental Bridge]
[Verso 3]
Hash for breakfast, we die young
A curse, some bad vibes in my sector
I thought I could suceed
I have been said that my submarine came from Russia, that here there were some street R'n'B
I need something to eat, a pussy to lick, a body armour
Too much faggots have no respect in this rap game
Kho, check my number 9.2
I'm hurting them, nothing new except that
We're still scoring, shoots on the top corner, I failed if I forgave you
I'm writing during full moon nights
My tribe goes to sleep when you go to work
First, we're all in the field, get out of the stands
Then, come on roll a weed gram
You know my city, I saw your license plate in the Boulogne Wood
Man, here you can't run away
Both phone chips and bills are fake in our hood
I'm burrying other MCs
When the light goes off, I listen to the Wu-Tang
They underestimated me, its time to go mean
Music and crimes for some pennies
I'm causing riots, my pen is soaked with blood, fag
I'm killing you but I've some lipstick on the dick
Being independent rules
