A4, 2093, 92izi
Senegal BKR, Bakel City
My best friend is dead, I'm sick of life
Devils come out at night, nig-a I'm a warrior tonight
Nothing but game, money and b-tches
Let them shake their maracas, I'm a gorilla G, slum dog
92 - straight up, I want pus-ies, cars and food
Losers can take the rest, I just leave them in their sh-t
Visceral vices out there, hate is deep-rooted
Like a fast a-s ship over the sea,
My flow's interstellar
Raise your hand if you got some Jack, big booties around your table
Our girls are too sick, nig-as can't handle it
The higher I climb, the harder I will fall
Knowledge is a weapon - I got a gun cause I ain't dumb
Kebabs past midnight, shout out to my clique of gremlins
Euros, US dollars, pounds sterling
Suburbs gone crazy, Kopp Olympique
Brahim Asloum swag
Bim bam boom in Mc Doom's pus-y
Hook
I've never considered suicide, even when there was nothing in my fridge
I'd rather fu-k their mothers in the field, in paramilitary mode
I'm ready to shoot him or her, I'm a criminal ever since minitel
Standing on my own two feet, B.A.K.E.L. City Gang
Against your crew, don't worry, that one man can sort them out alone
Tell them to take it easy, nobody can fu-k with Saddam
Saddam Hauts-de-Seine, Bakel City Gangster
Guinea Conakry, Clamart - that's where I want to be buried
We lost our best soldier, I'm sick of life
I'm gonna shoot you down like Cobra, I ain't into hype no more
Life is not a dream, sh-t gives me nightmares
Ü on my polo, Versace on my suit
Don't you go into business with my nig-as if you can't afford it
My nuclear stuff is military, I could waste you with a headbutt and a kick
Just go fu-k your mother, headshots, I'm not aiming at feet
If you're not hard then don't act like it, you've never been up in the streets
I got nothing to prove, my police record goes against me
They got dildos, we're godfathers
Easy way of life, top-full account, bald head, big balls, proud Parisian
In Oz, I'm Adebisi
Hook
Add a few zeros so we can close that deal
Bearded like Carlos Boozer
It was just me in your a-s, you thought we were many
Don't tell my b-tch what I'm up to, don't spread that sh-t on Twitter
I'll end up in jail, that's what my teacher predicted
No need to be a marabout to know I turned out badly
No need to turn on the radio, we're at every red light
I was raised in the hood, when I bark they're whispering
Upper-class France wears miniskirts so I can see her panties
Cops are grilling you, remember we told you to hush
Or Aulnay-sous-Bois' gang will swoop down on you before you can say damn
My brother was the best, I'm sick of life
We're all smarter than the highest police officer
I often think about my hometown man, I'm not feeling that great
B-tches give what they got, only real nig-as in the place