Leben (Tod) (feat. Dú Maroc)

Ah-ahh

We can't escape death, we live with it
Only when you're dead, do we meet it
We can't escape death, we live with it
Only when you're dead, do we meet it
Living in Brussels, from the same area as Pierre
Rivers flow before the coast of Venezuela
The first time shots were fired, there are no rules or honor
Even if I had to or fled across the seas
Always something at my hip, this life is dangerous
Way too often I was the shooter, but at least I was honest

Coat from Missoni, coat from Brioni
Three thousand blocks on a boat off the coast of Monrovia
My runner missed the you3
I'm chasing 180,000 through the money counting machine
At Kufsteiner Platz, drug dealer, police
It can never be the same as it was (Wooh)
This goes out to [?]
Park a brand new Bugatti on Haarlemmerdijk
Shqipes from the area of Peja
Mocros from Meknès sailing to Venezuela
Free Amir, free Sammy, free Hugs
Too much paper and phones, we go in like men to prison

Eywa

At night in an armored G-Class (Ah)
Bags from Bottega, pizzeria [Höchst?]
Undercover mafia, 'Ndrangheta (Eywa)
Conditions, blood feuds, Guantanamera
For the shooter five grand, for the lawyer a tenner (Rrah)
Zenzakan with Mocros from West London (Salam)
The route secured like the Pentagon
Loaded up, Trenbolone, John Gotti, Teflon Don
Another dead one, a sensation for the paper
Masud, you son of a bitch (You son of a bitch)
For you it’s: lead or pay
It’s about two million, what’s two hundred K?
Betrayal, I’ll let you pay with bills ([?])
My brother Rafi did too much time
No GRAMMY Awards because of my criminal record
Life or death, in my area there’s war
We can't escape death, we live with it (Hamdulillah)

We can't escape death, we live with it
Only when you're dead, do we meet it
We can't escape death, we live with it
Only when you're dead, do we meet it
Living in Brussels, from the same area as Pierre
Rivers flow before the coast of Venezuela
The first time shots were fired, there are no rules or honor
Even if I had to or fled across the seas
Always something at my hip, this life is dangerous
Way too often I was the shooter, but at least I was honest