Wearing Dolce Gabbana sneakers with Italy flag
If there's trouble, chatter, I'll shoot you a Vitaly-jab
On the street, the hare runs, not the Ritalin pack
Telegram, every gram for the dealer diet
This is drug dealer music, rip-off music
This is pants down, sip out, grab the whore
This is wins for their hate, God give me strength
4-3-Police, yes, we are, like in jail

I carry the Colt with gold bullets
Veysi is ready to shoot
We love the people, we are thieves with pride
Robin Hood is pumping lead again

Fuck the fame, bro
The flash is like Hero for their shitty behavior
It's okay like this
Take your five minutes of fame and then you can go

Yes, we shoot (yes, we shoot), no bullet goes astray
Yes, we shoot (yes, we shoot), wolves lure me out of the fog
Yes, we shoot (yes, we shoot), no more chance to talk here
Yes, we shoot (yes, we shoot), you pay today with your life
Yes, we shoot (yes, we shoot)

You have three, four friends, five, six enemies
Has about seven, eight chances, but a thousand doubters
Works nine, ten years for just ten minutes of fame
But what the hell, what else can you do?
Man, don't tell me about diss tracks and dignity
I carry the 7.6 between six-pack and belt
Everyone talks too much about business in the quarter
But why don't we see your face in the quarter?
As you know, Chico, the eyes unfortunately do not lie
Maybe just a rapper, because a dealer you are not
First gangster and then rather not again
And your back only takes care of you, the deeper you bend
And reality is a diva, if she wants
And makes the night a nightmare that is on overdose
Because every lie, every bullet and the hate comes back
Because no man is as strong as the trigger he pulls

Yes, we shoot (yes, we shoot), no bullet goes astray
Yes, we shoot (yes, we shoot), wolves lure me out of the fog
Yes, we shoot (yes, we shoot), no more chance to talk here
Yes, we shoot (yes, we shoot), you pay today with your life
Yes, we shoot (yes, we shoot)

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