In the quiet third-quarter the bottles are empty
We are completely stoned
The little ones are aiming at your head
We hustle and rap for a living
These pigs break down the door of the stash
The sound turns, the sound turns into a mess
From rich neighborhoods to the projects
These old radios don't play us
Too bad I won't lower my pants, straight like dad
And if this business doesn't work
These so-called dealers will lose their loot
On the life of my dick that your girl won't let me go
Look I have my underwear stained with gloss
The Dictatorship in the bins
They're going to eat pies
And if these sons of bitches chatter, his career stops in bullet
Jeci go ahead

All the niaggas in my car make money
So we eat from these pound cakes
I want to weigh like my brothers from Qatar
Take the spotlight from these bastards
Crush the MCs with my 4x4
In my hideout, my head, dude it's Baghdad
I'm just a big Bériz who smells like a potato
Bring out the thing it goes rat-tat
I want to see all these assholes on all fours, so what
I pass the weed to all my niagga
I love her mi amor, let go of the galactic team
Davidson presents it's a death sentence
I'm stuck in my hideout, we're just hunting the loot
Fuck the prosecutor and his pigs
I'm from this city where we do these things and if you don't agree
We tell you to eat your dead

(Ooh no) we rapped then they did like us but it's nothing
(Oh no) big heavy sound to make you feel good
(Ooh no) don't talk to me about the competition, I don't care
We're going to take them in Deuboukéhi

The suckers are lining up, they will get nothing
Roll a big joint of weed, we do nothing wrong
The bitches are lining up, all my guys are there
Kiss to the haters, they want to see us hurt
The suckers are lining up, they will get nothing
Roll a big joint of weed, we do nothing wrong
The bitches are lining up, all my guys are there
Kiss to the haters, they want to see us hurt

Let me do it negro I'm going to make sure
That all these girls shake their flat asses
Here it's real it doesn't play
I'm not worried, do the job
Put weed in the hookah and Hakuna Matata
There's the brain of some friends on the Moon
At home when we want to make the headlines
Full helmet look at the T-Max in the street
Outside it's cold, buddy, take a sweater
Heat the knife, big, you know the deal
Don't heat me up, bitch, if you can't handle the boy
The good life is summed up in the black card
So that my son can ride around my house on a pocket bike
You want my ass but I don't know you
You want my ass but you don't know me
Tonight who leads the dance? I want to see the choreographer
Smoke good you'll be stronger than Superman
I feel, I feel, I feel super light
I feel, I feel

A girl who poses around all these guys
We've never seen that, but what is that?
I'm not a rapper or a gangsta
Progressive R'n'B, I'm here for that
Some will say "but who is she?
She thinks she's a man" but it's not that
You fuck the ethics I don't care about your criticisms
Stop, I'll show you what I'm capable of
Mallaury nice to meet you, yes I just arrived
And I intend to impose myself, who can stop me?
That one is not yet born, so imagine the rest
Davidson presents The Dictatorship and Hache-P
Tell them what we're capable of
We come bratatatata these bastards
And finish off all this band of miserable

Big Daddy Jok', Jok'Air
My dick in her pussy and my head in my money
My eyes are fixed on the top
Your favorite MC is a joint
Rear window without tint son of a bitch recognizes me
Lord, I have sinned because I was lost
With her stoned under this apple tree
Forgive me if I bit the apple
But there was too good and arched like a pony
Big Daddy Jok' is in your house
I smoke your stash on your balcony
I take care of your girl when you're in prison
I spread my underwear in your living room
I do the dishes for special occasions
If I impregnate your wife, you poor fool
You will recognize the son

(Ooh no) we rapped then they did like us but it's nothing
(Oh no) big heavy sound to make you feel good
(Ooh no) don't talk to me about the competition, I don't care
We're going to take them in Deuboukéhi

The suckers are lining up, they will get nothing
Roll a big joint of weed, we do nothing wrong
The bitches are lining up, all my guys are there
Kiss to the haters, they want to see us hurt
The suckers are lining up, they will get nothing
Roll a big joint of weed, we do nothing wrong
The bitches are lining up, all my guys are there
Kiss to the haters, they want to see us hurt

The suckers are lining up (Deuboukéhi)
Roll a big joint of weed (Deuboukéhi)
The bitches are lining up (Deuboukéhi)
Kiss to the haters (Deuboukéhi)
The suckers are lining up
Roll a big joint of weed
The bitches are lining up
Kiss to the haters

VIEW ORIGINAL LYRICS