(Back to the future) hey, hey, hey (S/o le Flem)
S.E, S.E, S.E, S.E, S.E, S.E, S.E
Kaaris

When the sun rises, I don't want to be handcuffed
Bad boy only wants to count
Good enemies make good mates
You eat it, I smile and drink to your health
I prayed to the sky to atone for my sins
But the junkie doesn't want to stop scoring
Toka vest, coke in the pocket
I have the answers to all your questions

It puts a tracker on you, I take the lead
If there are four pot exits, we're in it
Not surprised to see a whore change sides
Hands made to touch gold in both gloves
"Until death", that's the motto
Like Bonano, I have the toy under my shirt
It's either a pussy or tales that divide us
Even if we have tons we continue the tens

9.3.2.7, we have good shit
The heart is black, the cash is laundered
She wants me to fuck her, she makes big signs
I put a minimum wage in a Givenchy sweater
Here, it smells of hatred and pollen
That it smokes ideas of ebony color
We know who are those who run, those who draw
As soon as I get out of the booth, you cut your veins

We never go outside without our metals
In the street when it was freezing in the network
It comes back from Rotterdam under the eye of the helicopter
On the face of a snitch, I crush a cigarette butt
Hey, well surrounded, I don't clench my fists anymore
You, you're a fucking flocko I see you coming from afar
Eh, there's nothing left, here we tear each other apart
You, your ass bounces when I go back and forth
I don't give a fuck if you have beautiful eyes
I look at your ass, I only think about the conga line
I can rer-ti on you, all in full Burberry
I'm in front of the re-fou, big joint of weed
I like GTs but I prefer Lambos
I light up the city, 2.7 and 0
You see me on the news, handcuffed behind my back
In the end acquitted like John Rambo

We go to the coal dressed in black every night
You see a crack pipe in front of your mirror
Don't call me "the blood", you dream of having my life
You're a jealous one, we're not going to rewrite history
We go to the coal dressed in black every night
You see a crack pipe in front of your mirror
Don't call me "the blood", you dream of having my life
You're a jealous one, we're not going to rewrite history, eh

It's in the coke, no one wants to end up at the unemployment office
You're in the locker room, I'm on the field at kickoff
We enter your mother's house like at the Stade de France, it's the 9.3
We're not guilty but it's you, the prey
Wash your pussy or I'm going to lose my erection
As soon as it's midnight everyone is gloved
It goes pim-pom when it goes down
It's raining bullets, your clique is soaked
I have no sorrow, I do not derogate
I cut into slices, I put in the coche-sa
Condemned to detail in the building
Hooded like Crimi' or Rorschach

27, 27
Oh, click, click, click, click
27, 27

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