GLOCKS (feat. Foyone)

Run-run, start the engine with the .45
Run-run, Glock-clad at his funeral
Run-run, everyone who spoke, bro, where are they today?
You feel me? You feel me?

God takes it away and God gives it, my brother, everything follows an order
Always ready to play, I sink them all, Michael Jordan
If the palace is made of glass, it's fragile and in the end it breaks
See, hear, and be silent, be strong and endure the blows

This is like sports, for some it's a game
None are Messi, only one Diego is born
By this I mean, not just anyone can
To be first in class, you have to do a lot of homework
I bring out the powers

I know there are a couple of haters out there who hurt
I knock on heaven's door
If I talk about style, I don't judge the clothes you wear
The 10 with the 9 is like watching Ronaldo play with Carlitos Tévez

I talk about beauty, it's not the one that gets operated on
If I talk about value, it's not about the wallet
I know, I'm a jerk, I deliver these flows like Fedex
I get on the Fiat and when that ONE smiles, it turns into a Mercedes, check it out

Crew tags all over the block
The trademark, owners of the spot
In front of the cops dressed in Lacoste
Where's the one who doubts me now?

[Bridge: Foyone & Acru]
Where are they? I don't see them
Tell me, where are they? Yeah
Where are those who said I wouldn't make it?
(Where, where, where, where?)

Where are they if I spit gifts?
And their score drops, my text is gore
If the plan bothers them, a Nobel Prize
To the best clan without a quarterback

Flower mattress for those who leave
And two coffins with the name of al
Who talks about me to extinguish my plan
I write their end on the grills of my doberman

My lyrics are measured in tattoos or vibrations, not ruled by a tablet
They told me as a kid to earn a living for myself and strangled cancer
Creator like Tyler, if they want to front me, double the dose, the knowledge
The envy channel is not profitable, six thousand feet in the air

With the signature intact, the visor down, the tires are white, the windows black
The '10' that won my back shines every time the fireworks hit it
I don't have time to respond to crap, the chains dance in clubs I dream of
And the wall looks more mirrored, effect of a medal for the new album

And I know what cold is on the leather, I've grown up in the game, 24/7 on fire
Now this is mine and I want it, I want another world and I believe it
Fuck your envy, I move, Saint Peter opens the door for me
I use the sky's hectare as a track
Releasing the fifth, I skid on the ground leaving the sleigh's scratch

Grateful, I'm not a saint
I've been waiting for the jump for a long time
Seeking a life of honor and rank
Just asking for a chance, bro, when I return to the neighborhood

Run-run, start the engine with the .45
Run-run, Glock-clad at his funeral
Run-run, everyone who spoke, bro, where are they today?
You feel me? Man, you feel me?

Run-run, start the engine with the .45
Run-run, Glock-clad at his funeral
Run-run, everyone who spoke, bro, where are they today?
You feel me? Man, you feel me?

Run-run, start the engine with the .45
Run-run, Glock-clad at his funeral
Run-run, everyone who spoke, bro, where are they today?
You feel me? Man, you feel me?