Kalash

Pull out the heat like in Marseille
Yeah, man
Easy
Your crew's broke as hell
On the streets, everything's for sale
The real ones know, we recognize each other
Anti-hess, we connect
I got big arms, like Popeye's cat

Spit on me, I’ll throw a bottle at you
Struggling to find sleep
Chin up to the sun
Molotov cocktail
I’ll fuck you, leave you at the hotel
Cruising in a Lamborghini, Maybach
Phantom, you’re stuck in an Opel
I’m in the textile game, #soniarykiel

I run the biz American style
I’d love to hook up with a Dominican
I’d keep her busy all weekend
I’d keep her busy all weekend
Downtown, I got a view of Brickell
I swear I’m fresh, I’m on point
My piggy bank’s full, I got my usual hate
I talk like a gypsy
You got swag like Sacha Distel
Fortunate like Elf Aquitaine
You’re on the bench, I’m the captain

Diamond watch, sunglasses
Pull out the heat like in Marseille
My favorite question: What’s up
What am I gonna do with all this cash?
What am I gonna do with all this cash?
What am I gonna do with all this cash?

My favorite question: What’s up
What am I gonna do with all this cash?
Me and my boys, we’re heading to the moon
Have fun in Meurthe-et-Moselle
My favorite question: What’s up
What am I gonna do with all this cash?
What am I gonna do with all this cash?
What am I gonna do with all this cash?
My favorite question: What’s up
What am I gonna do with all this cash?

2.7.0. Always rising, the republic
Suck my pipe
Officer, I’m jamming the triangle
*Sevran!* and the neon vest
I wanna make money but I’m lazy
I don’t like your face, I’ll fuck your sister
I only trust my Desert Eagle
And Zidane in stoppage time
She’s in the room, she’s under
The sheets *hum hum*, I got legs instead of arms

She thinks I’m fingering her
*Hum hum*, I’m putting my big toe in
My two favorite questions:
What am I gonna do with all this cash?
If I split your skull in two
Which eye’s gonna close first?
Keep clucking, I’ll smoke you
And I’ll roll a three-leaf
Your nails keep growing
You can scratch your coffin (2.7.)
I got killer prose and, even
Your reconstructed body
We still don’t know who you are
Your grandmother the prostitute

I pick up a couple of ladies, a quick fling
Anti-airline punchline, if I drop bars in the air
Forget it, man, it’s war!
The motive for the crime is the 'zère
Fuck it, even a sixty-year-old
The judge told me I’m exaggerating
But fuck her too
Her great-grandmother too

Nothing to envy these guys
Their girl’s hot, mine too
Crime scene, I’m the culprit
I’m in color, you’re poorly dressed
I’m Marlo Stanfield, your mom’s a hyena, you’re McNulty
I’ll fuck your life for free, no big deal!
I’m the best, that goes without saying

B.2.o.b.a. Mafia crook like Charles Pasqua
Vulgar, grammar mistakes
Sipping Jack, big tits
I travel by jet, take the Eurotunnel
I feel like I’m in your mom’s pussy