The fake blacks calm down, they feel that I'm scanning them, shit
Another song that won't play on Sky (so what?) we connect
With the real blacks, liquid cascading (cash)
They're going to take scalpel hits on the scalp
The fake blacks calm down, they feel that I'm scanning them, shit
Another song that won't play on Sky (don't care) we connect
With the real blacks, liquid cascading (cash)
They're going to take scalpel hits on the scalp

After the fiasco of Rap Contenders
Some bad group projects, I was ashamed to go back to the hood
I pondered the text and I became the best
When I ate the fruit of my reflection
I know the oceans and their pirates
Fans love Phaal and they're afraid he'll fail
I'm at the top of their pyramids, I'm the last rapper who raps
In another world, I'd be Philly Flinguo
The fly nigga fur like Doflamingo, eh
So you understand what I'm saying, I rap with a slow flow
Ralph Lauren robs your rents, airship flying to Amsterdam, Holland
It's not me, it's The Entourage who decides
Hey, we're more dangerous than a snitch who draws
We think we're Russell Simmons when we manage the money
When we manage the MILFs, we think we're Jeremih
1-9-9-5, we put the traitors on wiretap, huh huh
Well-groomed negro, I put cream on my elbows, yeah, yeah

The fake blacks calm down, they feel that I'm scanning them, shit
Another song that won't play on Sky (so what?) we connect
With the real blacks, liquid cascading (cash)
They're going to take scalpel hits on the scalp
The fake blacks calm down, they feel that I'm scanning them, shit
Another song that won't play on Sky (don't care) we connect
With the real blacks, liquid cascading (cash)
They're going to take scalpel hits on the scalp

Eh, eh
I have Tom Sawyer syndrome, apart from a girl, who can cure me?
Every day, I look like I'm at a funeral like the gravedigger (gravedigger)
To get to work each day, my mother takes the six twenty tram
I understand those who use their guns, crime channels their hunger
I'm in occupation mode of the field like Bayern
I arrive on foot, leave in a Porsche Cayenne
I want to make a career, only fire in my notebook
Blue flames when I open it (it's hot, it's hot) (Don Dada)
Even I, take two steps back
Kicker king, ace square
Artists like to talk about money, bankers like to talk about art, impulses
Unstoppable, kindness, tenderness, SMS, caresses
My hand on your buttocks, I go step by step
She pulls out a wad, she pulls out the hemp, she wants us to do
Bedroom sports
Around me, all kinds of people
There are those who mock the cops, there are those who smoke blunts
There are those who pop the champ', there are those who pop the guns

When I rhyme, the fake blacks calm down, they feel that I'm scanning them, shit
Another song that won't play on Sky (so what?) we connect
With the real blacks, liquid cascading (cash)
They're going to take scalpel hits on the scalp
The fake blacks calm down, they feel that I'm scanning them, shit
Another song that won't play on Sky (don't care) we connect
With the real blacks, liquid cascading (cash)
They're going to take scalpel hits on the scalp

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