[Intro: tag]
Stef Becker, beatmaker
[Verse]
At first, everything's white, blue, then, life takes its toll, I'm afraid of looking up and seeing the sky fall
Therapy for life, jealous of those that don't think
With time, I grew wary of those that approached me, those that clung, brothers whose gaze grew too close to my pockets
First check, new 45, no 45S, I've got my priorities straight
I rarely give into fear, but fear's also made me forewarned, you know that makes me forearmed
Before B.O, I was less popular, less famous, without burying bones or eggs
Look me in the eyes, head between your headphones, I took the 40 and the 15, I saw my parents' love fade away
I'll never have a stable relationship, I saw the red ink at the end of my street fade
Their tone would be less jovial, if they really knew war
Let us laugh over celebrations, our cars elevated
Life is too short, and the engine too powerful to ride at 110 outside city limits
We leave these bastards with half-rations, turn off the tap, and I'll never forget the looks they gave me
People we've bolstered up, or that forgot what we did for them, as if it was nothing
It ain't about choosing a side, to live, eat, drink, smoke, all in excess, fall and get back up until the last tumble
Maybe I'm a selfish bastard, I left them all with broken hearts
A bit of resentment, and then failure stresses us out, virtue and vice, and then failure motivates us
I ain't Abbé Pierre, but I give back to those I love, of course I'm involved, dumbass
Nothing really new apart from the car, the pay, the hoodie and the AK
The streets'll turn you crazy, like counting minutes in prison
Deutschland, Autobahn, 3X quality, Marlboro, smoking, hash mix
I handle the iron like Big Meech, I wipe grease all over my Shevchenko
“Tew-tew-tew-tew-tew”, no more games, we shoot the Brembos
Handle the weapons and the soulless body (Soulless)
[Bridge]
Thank all those who've stayed, nostalgia of those that left
I need two plastic explosives, I'm always in the same zone
A war general CZ, I'll die like an artist (Like an artist)
Give me a knife, you don't deserve the bullet, go past the speed limit, my bitch holds the other handle
And the entire city knows my address, still no tracker stuck under the whip (Under the whip)
[Chorus]
What we didn't do for the money, all went to shit during our teens
Give a damn about being a hero, I brought only problems back home (Oh)
Where did all my friends go? Those that swear by fire and blood
Where did all my friends go? Where did my friends go?
What we didn't do for the money, all went to shit during our teens
Give a damn about being a hero, I brought only problems back home (Oh)
Where did all my friends go? Those that swear by fire and blood
Where did all my friends go? Where did my friends go?