During the day, cutting, cutting, cutting
All night, turning to flog it
The two of us in the coupe, counting the money
We all did it to get out of the neighborhood
I was born to shoot them, oh, oh
I'm here for the loved ones, oh, oh
I was born to shoot them, oh, oh
I'm here for the loved ones, loved ones, loved ones (R.A.s gang, eh)

What do you want to do when you grow up? (Ah, gang)
Me, I wanted to make money (let's go)
Hooded late at night (ah, gang)
Outside even when it's cold (let's go)
Don't make too many threats (strong) you're as thin as a straw (skurt)
When I go out with my lady (skurt)
Well yes, it's me who pays (let's go)
We only count all year, touch one of my loved ones, you're going to die
OG never walks without a caliber
We are independent but not free (R.A.s gang)
I'm the star of the team, I'm the one who scores the goals (hey, hey)
I don't remember what it's like to run after the bus (hey, hey)

When success arrived, the number of friends shrinks (gang)
Before blowing everything in the club, take two seconds, think (R.A.S gang)
Everyone knows, we are the dirty ones
We are the bosses of hardcore rap (wild)
I didn't like you when you were alive
I won't like you when you're dead, blow

During the day, cutting, cutting, cutting
All night, turning to flog it
The two of us in the coupe, counting the money
We all did it to get out of the neighborhood
I was born to shoot them, oh, oh
I'm here for the loved ones, oh, oh
I was born to shoot them, oh, oh
I'm here for the loved ones, loved ones, loved ones (S.E)

My head is spinning from the ammonia fumes (hey)
The dose is ready, on the TP, in defense and attack (it's the gang)
I know the price of your lifestyle, I know the price of your big fiak
RS6, full black, I fly like with a jet-pack (hey, hey)
I don't betray for money, I organize myself like the fatal
The wrist shines in summer, authenticated, we don't talk
We get slapped, we don't stop, we continue even at card-pla
In Lambo' on the Marinade, your bitch has a powdered nose
What's the point of being on the second sheet if you're not a finalist
Or without fatigues in my militia? We don't need a stylist (hey, hey)
She empties the bottles of Ruinart (hey)
White wine, get high, she walks her big nose (gang)
In a field of acorns

During the day, cutting, cutting, cutting
All night, turning to flog it
The two of us in the coupe, counting the money
We all did it to get out of the neighborhood
I was born to shoot them, oh, oh
I'm here for the loved ones, oh, oh
I was born to shoot them, oh, oh
I'm here for the loved ones, loved ones, loved ones

Oh, oh
Oh, oh
Oh, oh
Oh, oh

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