357 (feat. Guè)

Cryin' loud, I swear to my mom
[?]
Ah, ah, yeah

I ain't from the Bronx
I grab the Africa Twin from the box
I ain't no Crips or even Bloods
He wants to start a war, but he ain't got the strength
357 never jams
Face covered with MOMO Design
I'm a second-class citizen
Always winning, they think I cheat
When you sleep, a siren wakes you up at night
After a hit in the night, you hear the bang
Where a .41 bullet stays strong
And in the conversation, you answer that everything's fine

When a scumbag dies, we toast with Dom, eh
If one of ours dies, we die with them, eh
If I'm not in handcuffs, hope it's a Daytona, eh
I only think about the twenty-four hours non-stop, eh
When a scumbag dies, we toast with Dom, eh
If one of ours dies, we die with them, eh
If I'm not in handcuffs, hope it's a Daytona, eh
As long as you want more, more, more (G-U-È)

Call the bank, they tell me: Big credit
My daughter will be fine because I'm a big daddy
They bring me a bag with tools, it's not a caddie
Excellence made in Italy, G, we made it (Uh)
I hit the pedal, then the exhausts sing
You're not man enough, you shit yourself, man
Ma-marijuana and coke, I said it on stage at the Ariston
I get on a Bombardier, then I watch Geolier at Madison
Killers pop wheelies on bikes, in Yamamoto
You're dumb, close the joints while I close the game
Represent Dogo, forever golden boy
I do business with your death just like Marlboro

When a scumbag dies, we toast with Dom, eh
If one of ours dies, we die with them, eh
If I'm not in handcuffs, hope it's a Daytona, eh
I only think about the twenty-four hours non-stop, eh
When a scumbag dies, we toast with Dom, eh
If one of ours dies, we die with them, eh
If I'm not in handcuffs, hope it's a Daytona, eh
As long as you want more, more, more