[Intro: Booba]
Take out the kalash like in Marseille
Well yeah Morray
[Verse 1: Booba]
Your niggas don't have any sorrel
In the street everything has to be paid for
The real people know each other, we know each other
Anti-hess we know each other
I have big arms for Popeye
Spit at me, I'll throw a bottle at you
I'm having difficulty falling asleep
Chin pointed towards the sun
M.O.L.O.T.O.V cocktail
I'll fuck you, I'll leave you to the hotel
I'm switching to Lamborghinis, Maybach, Phantom you stay at Opel
I'm in textiles #SoniaRykiel
I manage the business there 'American
I'll fuck a Dominican
I'll fuck her all weekend
I'll fuck her all weekend
Downtown , I have a view of Brickell
Wallah I'm fresh, I'm perfect
Piggy bank is full, I have usual hatred
I speak like a Romanichel
T' as the swag to Sacha Distel
Fortuné tah Elf Aquitaine
You're on the bench, I'm captain
[Chorus]
Diamond watch, sunglasses
br/>Take out the kalash like in Marseille
My favorite question: what am I going to do with all this sorrel?
Am I going to do with all this sorrel? Am I going to do with all this sorrel?
My favorite question: what am I going to do with all this sorrel?
Me and my kheys are going to the Moon , have fun in Meurthe-et-Moselle
My favorite question: what am I going to do with all this sorrel?
I'm going to do with all this sorrel? Am I going to do with all this sorrel?
My favorite question: what am I going to do with all this sorrel?
[Verse 2: Kaaris]
2.7.0. ever higher, the Republic is sucking my pipe
Mr. Agent, I'm giving you the triangle (Sevran!) and the fluorescent vest
I want to make money but I'm lazy
I don't like your face, I'll fuck you with your reu-ssÅu
I only trust in my Desert Eagle
And in Zizou in the arrests of 'game
She's in the bedroom she's under the sheets
I have legs instead of arms
She thinks I'm fingering her (hum hum)
I stick my big toe at him
My two favorite questions:
What am I going to do with all this money?
If I split your skull in two, which eye will close first?
Keep giggling, I'll smoke you and roll up a three-sheet
Your nails keep pushing you will be able to claw your coffin (2.7.)
I have prose that kills and, even your reconstituted body
We still don't know who you are, your grandmother the prostitute
[Chorus]
[Verse 3: Booba]
I pick up two three galley slaves, some sex in the air
Anti-aircraft punchline nothing, if I say words in the air
Forget morray, it's war!
The motive for the crime is 'zére
Fuck it mother, even a sixty-year-old
The judge told me that I was exaggerating
But fuck his mother there - that one too
His great-grand- mother too
Nothing to envy of these men, their girlfriend is good, mine too
Crime scene it's me the reur-ti
I'm in color , you came out badly
I'm Marlo Stanfield, your mother the hyena, you're McNulty
I'll fuck your life for free, that's okay!
br/>I'm the best, that goes without saying
B.2.O.B.A. mafia crook like Charles Pasqua
Vulgar grammar mistakes, sip Jack with big breasts
I travel by jet, I take the Eurotunnel
I feel like I'm in your pussy mother

INVIA LE CORREZIONI