This is ticker music, bro, fuck the police
Middle finger on the trigger, unlock and shoot
Which hustler wants beef? Bro, fuck the police
Part two, kill dirty cops on back alley streets

A.C.A.B.
Spray with the AK on fake Gs from APMC
Straight with the Basey into Stage V.I.P.
Payday, when Kay, this Jay pulling Ladyman, flees
Call the police, the blow blows your mind
My coke lines are oversized, lead bullets
Because Kay One the homo Thai
Keeps the ass ready like Wowereit
Body hit on nerd rappers, destroy Casper
You will be broken by waterboarding like surfboards in stormy weather
Backhomies, stacks on me
Hardened criminals like Fat Tony
Bitch, I'm sitting in the McLarens as if I were Ted Mosby
Tick to dealers Coke, bro, Interpol wants me dead
That's why I sleep with the milli like the stripper in "Dip It Low"
Which son of a bitch wants to come? Eat the ammunition! The Don
Rodeo the boy with balloons taken up by bulls
When the mafia G pulls his gun
In front of the assembled team plus camera team
The anatomy of the math genius
Dagi Bee sieved with the Kalash
Which bastard wants beef with the sponge assassin?
Load the Glock magazine, shoot shots
Take the katana, start a motherfucking massacre war
Like a dragon Shaolin
I make real talk street deals, underground leader
Like Need-for-Speed teams, sieve your Piç team
Cross undercover borders with a few cameramen
And more dope in the sprinter than in marathon runs

A.C.A.B., we shoot the cops
Taser against shotgun
A.C.A.B., under the Mace sports jogger Hecklers
Because all cops are bastards
First they burn my people and then my CDs
I put blood, heart and sweat into the tape
Twelve and a half thousand units worth 200k
A.C.A.B.

This is ticker music, bro, fuck the police
Middle finger on the trigger, unlock and shoot
Which hustler wants beef? Bro, fuck the police
Part two, kill dirty cops on back alley streets

Fuck the police, I'm at the corner, brother
Cool movies like Warner Brother
Twentyfour-seven, I'm driving the illegal track
If you hear police sirens, warn a brother
Nine in Burberry jeans, nerd rapper, fly
Your words on beats are like mortars
Your shirt and your body sieved, destroy enemies
Murder the German MCs Purge Anarchy
Gangster flow, mucks Sentino, the crack hoe in his Bentley, yo
Baseball bat comes into play like in betting offices in Mexico
The peaceful Carlo, acts like Pablo in his videos
But has a wire to the police, like their microphone cabling
I've been pursued since I was sixteen
But there's only a phantom image of me, shooting selfies in the Rolls-Royce
Pacino flow, kilos blow on Mio level
Fill my cash storage full with the store kino.to
Pierce bulletproof vests
With Uzi clips shoot the dude in the face until the bastard eats ammo
You stand at the gay strip
You lie "Please don't hurt me!" begging, blood-splattered in the corners
Whore, watch us stab crews with blades
Then they have butterflies in their chest
Like the brand new True Religion collection
I make drug money, make blood money like blood donors
My crew members are true gangsters, are pimps
Your crew members are pool goers
Hey, what does this half Canadian man want?
The only one allowed to shoot, my cameraman

A.C.A.B, we shoot the cops
Taser against shotgun
A.C.A.B., under the Mace sports jogger Hecklers
Because all cops are bastards
First they burn my people and then my CDs
I put blood, heart and sweat into the tape
Twelve and a half thousand units worth 200k
A.C.A.B.

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