SELMA Y PATTY

They call, they suck me off, oh, mama
The gang at war, the black mamba
Sertan, has the balls of Van Damme
The ovaries of Mulan, you the beak of a Toucan

I step on the bomb, the massacre was Truman's
If your name is Truman, they watch you from the Moon
I'm the best by far, chocolate Baltasar
I only have one more pair left, you can call me Yafar

In India they call me Shantaram
They have no idea, but they will find out
How much do you pay to check Instagram? (How much?)
What happened to my IBAN from the Cayman Islands
I bought tutti-frutti at Duty Free
A Snoopy doll, the cashier was a groupie
She said she was very cute, her name was Shizuka
I took the red pill and now I have a cable in my neck

The soul of Doraki, I eat your Dorayaki
Hideo Kojima or Hayao Miyazaki?
I'm back to stay in the capital, capisci
It's not Nietzsche, fuck bitches, Anunnaki
From my notebook to your laptop
You're fried like a bucket of Kentucky
The year of Kobe for the daddies
They're twins, they smoke a lot, like Selma and Patty

This is for all my motherfuckers, for them to take it to heart
For all my khay in the joseo, crossing nerves through the strait
For my bitches from the ghetto moving drugs and dealing with thieves
Raising children, enduring their jealousy
Damn it, I curse my dead
Each bar leaves a dead
It goes non-stop and down to the airport
Among the blind, the one-eyed man always reigns
Put this shit on, the best have returned
They make it difficult, very difficult, expert

Six producers for a bass, floor with drugs in the bass
Cousin, in the south there is no work, tate is sold in bundles
Set up something that looks like a business, never trust a partner
Put it in the bank, that money is clean

I like it like this, dirty, lots of sex, vice
With the windows open looking at the other building
When they look at me, I greet them with appreciation
I have attitude, I'm tough, then chest push-ups

This makes you want to fight someone, this alters your blood
It takes away your fear and hunger, this makes you sweat like hell
We're on time, it's not too late
Clutch your fist even if the wire gets stuck
For my whiners who are still with their mothers

Look for work, my little gluttons
With mom cleaning all the drawers
With the back always burdened with pain
Making money, you bastards, my little bastards

Put this shit on, the best have returned
The year of Kobe for the daddies
They make it difficult, very difficult, expert
They're twins, they smoke a lot, like Selma and Patty