Brotherhood in the building, in your mind
Brotherhood is the Russian style
Fuck bits, we change consciousness
There are a lot of you here, but I don’t see anyone
Bitch with me, my wounds will lick
I am making muvi while you are sitting
I hate all these people that they want to be with me
Because I'm the best
With the Grand of Nonsense, this cross
We fly to the industry fuck these bitches
Smolders in his hand, my life smolders in her hand
I look at the reflection in a boiling boiler
I wander in the dark, I'm with a bullet in a temple
Around a monolith without windows and doors
My choppa is charged, my choppa is in fire
If you do not believe, you can check
you don't need to fuck it a ram
I believe the quarters and believe the yards
Hala Madrid and praise to the gods
I make noise and disappeared immediately
I am drawn to problems I am drawn to money
My inner Rimba is fucking like a demon
I took your soul, sold it for nothing
We fall into the thick of trembling knees
The head is cracking as if logs
And how to run away this dilemma
There are a lot of you here, we shoot texts and on the floor of the sleeve
Yahiko Payne hide all faces, a cloud of blood I can get drunk with her
The city knows my name OW3N
We make tracks, I'm the third day in a coma
My world in the gland I seem to be in chrome
Tear Top 1 and my gloom
Brad Frede Krugger, because I am your nightmare
I read these bitches, they are a glossy magazine
This cash, we took this cash
You will be a shame for you, because Brush fucks you
You hear cotton is my glock
I NEED A MONEY, I am Staring in Scope
Like Ancelotti emotions to zero
From the village of rain, because I do pain
Fucking a candle, as if the best in the world
I took this money, we roll in a carriage
The bitch flows, she told her that I am a rapper
I am flying to Amsterdam, drugs in a package
I'm taking a step closer to victory
So much we did not work for children
You are too stupid, nothing shines for you
I have been savvy since childhood, since childhood on trap'e
Bitch I am in a prime and grandmas are in the wind
I shoot with texts in the automatic battleships
And I will not be sold, but at least kill
You are too wretched, your songs are in pussy
