LEARN LYRICS

The street, the real one
Grr, pow, pow, pow
Harbi Malamour
And f*ck your mother
Kenzo Loubu, I call Minur
Give me a minute, I rack the Glock
Case closed
Open your mouth, I'll shut that hole
Okay, Simba the b*tch works well in the area
Not a f*cking thing is right
Big Nose takes our photos
Stop, I didn't wanna be a rapper
I had the grams in my right sock
Squad van, I gotta get out fast
In my block
Lookouts are underground
B*tches and snitches in the same dish
Glock, it's hot, I make first impact
Semi-automatic
Biturbo, I only drive automatics
In a G-Class
I do geography and pure math
I wasn't sh*t
I smoke filtered with two b*tches in a penthouse
Blackberry
It speaks in codes and I move the load
Okay, okay, blade weapon
Watch out, game over
Quechua backpack full of drugs
Gloves, balaclava, I do nasty stuff
It's no good if you're at home high on drugs
They get in and you don't even notice
They take everything, chains and watches
Awooh, awooh
I didn't have a euro in my pocket
Vacuum-sealed money, I'm on a mission
Latex gloves, I leave no evidence
Awooh, awooh
Tape, I seal another package
Bring a kilo, I'll taste it for you
You go home, yeah, without a f*-