Dice
M.D.L.R, Kamikaz
From Marseille to Hospitalet
Ko-ko-ko-kompo production

From Marseille, tinted car, kamikaz style goes down
And few in my area relax
They fight, it's something they already have fixed
To take care of mom and her children
Thinking about business, not music, I get married
Because I don't pay much attention to the networks
A friend tells me that if I pay attention to them
They take me to court, I look for three cases
"I don't know what happened, I don't know what happened"
I said when they caught me robbing a flat
"I don't know what's going on, I don't know what's going on"
When they took me to court for a while
I've seen many who mess up over time
Here more than one does not brag and takes risks
You are from a series, crazy like a saga
They talk a lot on the networks, then they shit themselves
Someone who does it, says it
Does it and pays for it over time
And someone who does it, says it
The one who talks here never messes up
And few here have a guaranteed life
But they do have a lawyer insured
From a non-stop escape road
A greeting to my friend hidden in Granada
"Over there, over there, over there"
More than one told me when I was a person
"Go ahead, go ahead, go ahead"
Because if you speak up front, then you don't forgive
A friend always gets upset and not like you who has been for cocaine
If not because the other day at the beach I lost all the boxes that were from the neighbor

Neighbor shuts up (Yah)
Neighbor brags (Eh)
Investigation that falls (Falls)
That then no one assumes (Eh)
From Monday to Monday (Eh)
From Sunday to Tuesday (Eh)
From Monday to Monday (Eh)
The work in the street is split, ala
I'm chilling in the block
Big clouds of smoke
Outside it's all your brothers
And inside there's no one left to take care of you
They put it in their noses
Normal, they sell to death
They put it in their noses
It's the same, it's Bariolo, damn summer, go

Audi RS3, and all year round they eat pasta
Two on the Vespa, they only aim at the heads
Rasta's team loaded in the Fiesta
The stakes hold us the field like Andrés Iniesta
Don't play gangsters, the street is not Snapchat
They can't even assume and they want to manage four pussies
There are big war weapons, one day or another it turns into drama
Ask Zak, they talk in meters and no longer in kilograms
Friend to lose, wake him up if the brother sleeps
Direction Spain, Malaga, Benidorm
They sell death under the corridor
It's shit, as independents we don't have Polydor's budget
While you sleep they take the road, they drive with gloves
Marseille, Alicante, enough to supply, the rain-ter
Don't play too crazy we're going to caritaca
There's no point in flexing on the field like Caleta Car
You talk, you make noise
You're useless, you're like maracas
They sell the worst, buddy, the mule comes back from Caracas
You have nothing better to say, so buddy listen
Listening to you, you're worse than the Mara Salvatrucha
Even in my dreams
Buddy, I'm stuck in the hood
Don't play the big guy, you're just a clown who sucks his highness's dick
They put bullets in themselves, they no longer make keys with both arms
I arrive like in a hold-up, so raise your arms
Hooded worker, tracked by the BST
Doing everything solo is hard like singing without VST
For ten euros, buddy, you can get molested
The street is not a game, go tell those who wanted to test
They rap, they finish, listen to Nouméa
I hang out with Arabs, khels, weld roumia
There are too many whores in the R.A.P. yeah ask Khawet
We won't sign, yeah, if it's to eat peanuts

Neighbor shuts up (Yah)
Neighbor brags (Eh)
Investigation that falls (Falls)
That then no one assumes (Eh)
From Monday to Monday (Eh)
From Sunday to Tuesday (Eh)
From Monday to Monday (Eh)
The work in the street is split, ala
I'm chilling in the block
Big clouds of smoke
Outside it's all your brothers
And inside there's no one left to take care of you
They put it in their noses
Normal, they sell to death
They put it in their noses
It's the same, it's Bariolo, damn summer, go

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