(Binks Beatz)

While you're wasting your time, we're making the taga move
I rap for those who stash dirty money and spend nothing on these thiaga
I walk in the hood with the guys
I'm going to top up my Lebara
I rap for those who shout, watch the day, at night they go chouara
I break the window of your tchop, for 24 carats
There's my negro who assists me
There are the chickens, shout "Arah"
They don't even have two wheels
In their texts they talk about Arai helmets
Yesterday you were my bro, today I don't see you the same anymore

Why are you putting on gloves, you're not getting on plans
My negros want to break some sums
The cops they want to break some ploc'
At the police station I didn't break my face
I put on the hood, the iencli can't even see my mouth anymore

And if we fucked up your friend, it's just to mark the mess
After having mixed him up, we strip him
I detail the quette', on the knife there's enough for a seudi
We get high at 9pm as we said
I'm at the coal from Monday to Monday
At the end of the plavon, bon appetit
I'm in the hood, I don't leave the asphalt
Send the bottle, don't worry I'm used to it, bastard
We mix you up and you pass the money, bastard
We mix you up and you pass the money
I broke a fortune
I must not listen to the voice of the devil, this voice that tells me to go home
This voice that tells me to stop studying
I lose the north, I want to go south
If I'm not on the field, I'm in the stud'
I'm not on the field, I'm in the stud'

While you're wasting your time, we're making the taga move
I rap for those who stash dirty money and spend nothing on these thiaga
I walk in the hood with the guys
I'm going to top up my Lebara
I rap for those who shout, watch the day, at night they go chouara
I break the window of your tchop, for 24 carats
There's my negro who assists me
There are the chickens, shout "Arah"
They don't even have two wheels
In their texts they talk about Arai helmets
Yesterday you were my bro, today I don't see you the same anymore

I like making bills, I like when it comes in
I like to spread them on the table
My worst enemy is jail
My best friend is the tales
And since they don't go together, every day the cops get up early
So that's the law of the ghetto, to break kilos to come lift
I have Popeye's arms
To earn tales, I lose my sleep
We roam the city, we commit crimes
And every day it starts again, the street is not a game
You play with the truth
With my guys we screw shlags everyday
We go home once the bottle is empty
After midnight, my negros have dirty ideas

While you're wasting your time, we're making the taga move
I rap for those who stash dirty money and spend nothing on these thiaga
I walk in the hood with the guys
I'm going to top up my Lebara
I rap for those who shout, watch the day, at night they go chouara
I break the window of your tchop, for 24 carats
There's my negro who assists me
There are the chickens, shout "Arah"
They don't even have two wheels
In their texts they talk about Arai helmets
Yesterday you were my bro, today I don't see you the same anymore

Binks Beatz

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