feat. Future
Produced By: ain't no henna on my face
Rechained on the shore
I have the AR, I have the ski mask
O-R chains on the primate
I'm the Stan Smith at Adidas
I'm up to 300 #Léonidas
Your life is just a phone call away
Your life is just a phone call away of cock
Sergeant Kopp'zer in the cockpit
Too much bling'zer for the portico
[Verse 1: Booba]
I'm on the net'zer, in the street
Married to hatred like Bellucci
Nigga, you're fake like your Gucci
I don't know what to wear anymore, I'm too well off
Please , step on my Zanotti
It's the weight of weapons, not words, that weighs me down
It's not the handjob but the rocket that deafens you
What a brand of shit Porte Matuidi
At home, saying nothing, we said everything
Always live from the mother ship
I had Alzheimer's when they questioned me
When I think to you, I think missionary, not a legionnaire
I'm posted in your mother's room
In the commissioner's office
I'm on cocaine, you are sleeping pills
My God, how so many fake niggas proliferate
I have the best flow in the universe
My Glock my first wife, I have so left Lucifer
I win the lottery, smoke 20 oin-d
I travel dirty like a lo-ki in the va-ing
When they question me, the harki talks to three monkeys
I'll shoot you a bullet as big as a gnocchi in the larynx
[Chorus: Booba]
[Verse 2: Future]
It's murder for hire
br/>I put coke in the tires
I got dope on the flight
Thereâs birds on the Phantom
Burning money like Cam'ron
Coming straight out the gutter
Drinking that dirty Sprite syrup
I fuck all your kids and your mother
Me and your booboo, we boss
Down in Miami we floss
I just be tripping with flavor
They call like, âWhere is the sauce?â
I got a kilo and bought me a kilo
Tony Montana and I got the yayo
These bitches be loving a nigga for hitting a hater
Shit, these bitch ass niggas wonât let me have my moment
Knock and dodges to my enemy
Bagging up, selling these coca leaves
Then I go take me a shopping spree
I want a brand new AR with a 100-round drum on it
That money really make her cum, bitch
Then go put your tongue on it
That bitch really yours, nigga?
You better put alarm on it
I ainât go to Harvard, nigga
Thatâs word to my momma, nigga
I put that presidential Rollie on that bitch
And then she mine, my nigga
I grind and I shine, my nigga
I ain't wasting no time, my nigga
br/>Iâm smashing your freak on the passenger seat
Shoot at you niggas, saying, âFuck all the beef!â
I got ammo for days
Run around in the Caymans
Mac-11 in the Bentley
And I ride for my real niggas
Only God can judge me
When you live like a field nigga
When you donât feel niggas
Sometimes you gotta kill niggas
[Outro: Future]
Word up to my motherfucking riders, ya heard me?
Everybody getting sprayed up right now
I canât keep out these hoes XXX
They might turn on me, mo'fucker
Iâm âbout to got a blue story nigga
Shit âabout to get real uncomfortable for you niggas, ya heard?
Booba! Belucci! Freebandz! Freebandz! Freebandz!

SOUMETTRE LES CORRECTIONS