Bakel City Gang [English translation]

A4, 2093, 92izi

Senegal BKR, Bakel City

My best friend is dead, I'm sick of life

Devils come out at night, nig-a I'm a warrior tonight

Nothing but game, money and b-tches

Let them shake their maracas, I'm a gorilla G, slum dog

92 - straight up, I want pus-ies, cars and food

Losers can take the rest, I just leave them in their sh-t

Visceral vices out there, hate is deep-rooted

Like a fast a-s ship over the sea,

My flow's interstellar

Raise your hand if you got some Jack, big booties around your table

Our girls are too sick, nig-as can't handle it

The higher I climb, the harder I will fall

Knowledge is a weapon - I got a gun cause I ain't dumb

Kebabs past midnight, shout out to my clique of gremlins

Euros, US dollars, pounds sterling

Suburbs gone crazy, Kopp Olympique

Brahim Asloum swag

Bim bam boom in Mc Doom's pus-y

Hook

I've never considered suicide, even when there was nothing in my fridge

I'd rather fu-k their mothers in the field, in paramilitary mode

I'm ready to shoot him or her, I'm a criminal ever since minitel

Standing on my own two feet, B.A.K.E.L. City Gang

Against your crew, don't worry, that one man can sort them out alone

Tell them to take it easy, nobody can fu-k with Saddam

Saddam Hauts-de-Seine, Bakel City Gangster

Guinea Conakry, Clamart - that's where I want to be buried

We lost our best soldier, I'm sick of life

I'm gonna shoot you down like Cobra, I ain't into hype no more

Life is not a dream, sh-t gives me nightmares

Ü on my polo, Versace on my suit

Don't you go into business with my nig-as if you can't afford it

My nuclear stuff is military, I could waste you with a headbutt and a kick

Just go fu-k your mother, headshots, I'm not aiming at feet

If you're not hard then don't act like it, you've never been up in the streets

I got nothing to prove, my police record goes against me

They got dildos, we're godfathers

Easy way of life, top-full account, bald head, big balls, proud Parisian

In Oz, I'm Adebisi

Hook

Add a few zeros so we can close that deal

Bearded like Carlos Boozer

It was just me in your a-s, you thought we were many

Don't tell my b-tch what I'm up to, don't spread that sh-t on Twitter

I'll end up in jail, that's what my teacher predicted

No need to be a marabout to know I turned out badly

No need to turn on the radio, we're at every red light

I was raised in the hood, when I bark they're whispering

Upper-class France wears miniskirts so I can see her panties

Cops are grilling you, remember we told you to hush

Or Aulnay-sous-Bois' gang will swoop down on you before you can say damn

My brother was the best, I'm sick of life

We're all smarter than the highest police officer

I often think about my hometown man, I'm not feeling that great

B-tches give what they got, only real nig-as in the place

• Artist:Booba
• Album:A4