(Cold)
(Hey, Kyree!)
(Young Mesh makes the 808)

Tenth floor, looking out the window
I see the kids running in the bando
Dear God, please forgive us
We couldn't avoid the problems
My soul remains in the spotlight
Little hoodies, yeah, they're already running
In their young years from the dirty cops
Oh Mama, I'm sorry

Oh Mama, I'm sorry
Oh Mama, I'm sorry
Oh Mama, I'm sorry
Oh Mama, I'm sorry

Fake friends, they can't handle my income (income)
Can't catch up with wasted time with them (heh)
And Mama prays that I come home earlier (come')
I give her my word (pah, pah, brrra)
I don't care that you're in contact with him
What you're talking about in your café (pah)
You're the one with the problems if you make it your problem
They fuck themselves up extremely, no matter, I let them go (pah, pah)
The covers fall, but for me it was foreseeable
Come with Buheris from Marrakech (yes), Piecy makes Kafa lesh (lesh)
Dirt on their fingers, but they know how to wash money (pah, pah)
Bring hit songs overnight (pah, pah)
You didn't make anything of yourself, say (pah, pah)
Does it make you feel better if you hate me for it now? (hah)

Tenth floor, looking out the window
I see the kids running in the bando
Dear God, please forgive us
We couldn't avoid the problems
My soul remains in the spotlight
Little hoodies, yeah, they're already running
In their young years from the dirty cops
Oh Mama, I'm sorry

Oh Mama, I'm sorry
Oh Mama, I'm sorry
Oh Mama, I'm sorry
Oh Mama, I'm sorry

Do you remember back then? (Back then) Before I was a star (star)
Had no money, just hung out at Starbucks, because it was cold outside
I'm sorry, Mama (Mama), I'm sorry, Baba (Baba)
I'm sorry, because my thousand worries made you high (yes)
Fuck your rhyme technique
Who of you actually thought I bite hits? I don't mean
Yes, they don't follow, they don't like, Ekho, they avoid me
Yes, I can understand that your favorite rappers are jealous
For your favorite rappers buy, the clicks
Ekho, what's up? Ekho, what's up? (yes) You hate my situation (huh)
Hate what I earn (ey), hate where I live
Hate what I say to you, but honestly, no lie
First week was not strong, but I remain an idol
This life tastes so bitter, even more bitter than back then, yes, Ekho
More money, more problems, more hits, more shows
More records on the wall means more rats fucking your head
More Kanaken, who make eye like opticians

Tenth floor, looking out the window
I see the kids running in the bando
Dear God, please forgive us
We couldn't avoid the problems
My soul remains in the spotlight
Little hoodies, yeah, they're already running
In their young years from the dirty cops
Oh Mama, I'm sorry

Oh Mama, I'm sorry
Oh Mama, I'm sorry
Oh Mama, I'm sorry
Oh Mama, I'm sorry
Oh Mama, I'm sorry
Oh Mama, I'm sorry
Oh Mama, I'm sorry
Oh Mama, I'm sorry

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