María (feat. Ninho)
MORAD (M.D.L.R.)
Maria (feat. Ninho)
I’m not that far, I’m not that far
I’m not that far from the bus stop (whoa)
I think about it when I drop 110 in the Brabus (Brabus)
I throw on my TNs, but hey, I’m making moves
I break it down, find a stash spot in the ride
Ah, even if I’ve got a couple of moms, nah, don’t worry
I’m not dragging anyone into this mess
Don’t sweat it, we know the hustle (ah)
It flips, it takes back the whole operation (ah)
Ah, my love, we used to spread it, I was fifteen (years)
We talk in cheese, we talk in big stacks
1900 euros, ten hours the expenses
On us, we hide the heat like the bosses
3.2 under the hood
Hawaiian shirt with the homies (the homies)
I’m in the coffee shop, I’m in the mix
Cousin, there’s G13, if you want, we can offer
Something else, variety of weed and hash (hash)
At ten-thirty, I drop off the gear (gear)
I’ve got a meeting at one in the capital, it’s cardio
The profit’s there, if you’ve spent
Just a drop is enough to make it overflow
It lowers the price, I gotta import, eh-eh
Fifty kilos of weed (weed)
Per gram, I’m gonna flip it all (flip it all)
Latex, well-gloved, to judge, you gotta taste
We’re playing our lives, we’re playing the final
A million, packed in vacuum
At night I get cold
At night is when I made my mom cry for being caught up in trouble
Drive without a care, the mind just machines
And only she imagines, in adrenaline rushes
I roam the hemisphere, the bad never gets to me
Inside I hope it dies, to stop carrying it outside
In a world I’m stepping into and I don’t see myself growing
And problems keep popping up, inside I’m dying
And sometimes I think about leaving and I don’t want to think about going
I don’t argue with anyone, I don’t like to lie
Fifty kilos of weed, the car couldn’t hold it
And it passes by the station, but they won’t stop us
No one trusts anyone, and I know you’d talk
And that’s not my problem, it’s your issue to speak
Fifty kilos of weed (weed)
Per gram, I’m gonna flip it all (flip it all)
Latex, well-gloved, to judge, you gotta taste
We’re playing our lives, we’re playing the final
A million, packed in vacuum
At night I get cold
At night is when I made my mom cry for being caught up in trouble.