Next, World War 3, yeah
(It killed that shit, pussy) yeah
Yeah (Crimi)

Traces of a battering ram on the front door (damn)
Client took two grams in one go
We don't even know what danger is anymore
I never knew how to blend in (never)
We can take your child away (damn)
Like in Man on Fire (like in Man on Fire)
No one can take my pen away (no one)
I write under Jack Fire (Jack Fire)
In the room, everyone is on fire
Follow me, don't be afraid
I shift gears without clutching (sku)
No blank pages, only sleepless nights
Here, if you don't have white, you don't have money
There are no holidays, no Sundays
From February to February (woah)
You need VVS, you need to shine
But before that, you need to grind
Risk ten years every quarter (Crimi')
We don't report our losses (Crimi')
Nigga, I don't know any ministers
Hard drugs, you administer yourself (chh)
I crush troops, militias
Crimi, hey, make way for King Crimi'

Pirate like in One Piece (pirate like in)
I set the track on fire (I set the fire)
Joint in my mouth when I piss (sku, sku)
Bitch, I'm an artist (bitch, bitch)
New flow, new session
At the top of the pyramid, I wear the eye, I put pressure (hey)
I crash drunk into your show (sku, sku)
It's the witch doctor sending you his blessings (wow) eh
I fill the Cristalline with Poliakov (I fill the Cristalline)
I'm Putin's son, smoking Kolarov's strike (I smoke the strong)
I fill the Cristalline with Poliakov (I fill the Cristalline)
I'm Putin's son, smoking Kolarov's strike (I smoke the strong)

Han, ekip
I arri-arrive stoned like no one's business
Chen Zen, real nigga like Kaepernick (han)
Nigga, they're fake, they put on a lot of polish
Shoutout to Crimi', I hustle from February to February (han)
Nigga, we have the loud that makes you go crazy
Every morning, I thank the Lord
I hope to avoid the flames even though I know I'm going to burn (goddamn)
Master manual gearboxes, automatic gearboxes (sku, sku)
Only work, no luck, nigga, no Lotto (nah, nah)
Eyes squinted, I arrive Japanese
Nigga, like Yamamoto (eh)
Under syrup, I pilot well, no crash (sku)
Nigga, I consume lean by the carton (lean)
I roll a big Backwood like Fredo Santana
I put three and a half grams, no cardboard

Avoid the cops and spells
Crumble the hash, the bikes that lift
More than one kid wants to take your place (fire, fire)
More than one shot ends up in the face (fire, fire)
Send the recipe, we'll make the dough (pew, pew, pew, pew)
I send you the packet so you can take your line
I wait for the next one to put it in the cavity
Late trace, local, I heard nothing, I saw nothing
Throw the evidence into the ravine
I don't confuse the fake with the brave
The mix is in the Cristalline
It's not an impression, bro, I dirtied you (tah, tah, tah, tah)
Bro, I did missions, missions (brr, brr)
Bet on precision if it shoots

Always right on target (hey)
No, I don't shoot at the post (nah)
Effective like Hernán Crespo (yes)
Click-clack, bang-bang in the city
Everything happens at a distance on the bike
I wait like a crow on a vacant lot (yes)
You want to get us? Pff, what a joke (haha)
Nothing to hide, I don't manage my cards (hey)
Like the first cyphers in the park
I do it only to coordinate all my blacks
It's our faces on the Kodak (Kodak)
Our banners on the map (hey)
Next Level, 6.6.7, Power Gang, D.S.M, 1.9.9.3, 500 Squad
Systematic control (hey)
Product in plastic (plastic)
Big wad, no elastic (elastic)
Bad bitch, when I'm hard, automatic gearbox (yeah)

Fuck the rally, bitch, I'm not in the race
I chase the cash, bitch, I don't wait for the stock market
Tornado grip in the kitchen
2.2.4.6.7 sili, bitch, we have the drop
Seven big-nosed in the hood
No chick, act crazy, if you're shady, we'll move you
My chicas can put you to bed
Finished, big-nosed talk but I know they'll go silent

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