Eight

To beautify our lives, we sold death
Weed and pestle, all locked up under the North (yeah, yeah)
The theme is "never rely on another" (yeah, yeah)
Whether good or bad, we don't spit on a dead man (never)
I'm sick of life, my negro, I feel like I'm talking into the void, I'm disgusted (ooh)
Clamart, the city, my negro, 1.4.0, 100-8, yeah, you know (ocho)
SDM from Paris, to my locked up brothers, I send greetings (hello)
Always involved in the dirty, AK-47, the bill is salty
Kilos, kilos to sell
She doesn't have my child but has drugs in her belly (drugs in the belly)
Client wants a chrome on a 20
Gun on your temple, close your eyes, make a wish (a la la la)

Trouble, if it pops, it shoots everywhere, we don't count the dead
My baby left me but she will come back if there's a lot of love
Noon, at the bottom of the city, the field deals under the noses of the pigs
The gang forever, go fuck yourself if you're not one of us

It's my gun that speaks, I don't have the words
It's your mothers who cry, no it's not ours
Listen to the instrument that gives the melody
My late father makes you dance the Yakalelo (Yakalelo, Yakalelo)
My late father makes you dance the Yakalelo (Yakalelo, Yakalelo)
My late father makes you dance the Yakalelo (Yakalelo, Yakalelo)
My late father makes you dance the Yakalelo (Yakalelo, Yakalelo)
It's your mothers who cry, no it's not ours

I'm the 100-eight, I'm also 4.3.2
By telling you over and over, I hope you got it (yeah, yeah)
Never in my life, I confessed (oh no)
Mocking smile in front of the OPJ
Give up my own, no never, betray the gang, no never
Baby wants her Chanel bag
That's not why I'm in the tower
I wouldn't have figured you out if I knew (arriba, arriba, arri')
Without giving news, I left, between me and her, there was no feeling
Later, I won't have time for her
Yet I will have Rolex and Patek Phillip (I will have an Audemars)
Client comes in the binks, approaching the damn net shot
"Akha", there are the pigs, don't worry, it's square, I put everything in the fiak

Trouble, if it pops, it shoots everywhere, we don't count the dead
My baby left me but she will come back if there's a lot of love
Noon, at the bottom of the city, the field deals under the noses of the pigs
The gang forever, go fuck yourself if you're not one of us

It's my gun that speaks, I don't have the words
It's your mothers who cry, no it's not ours
Listen to the instrument that gives the melody
My late father makes you dance the Yakalelo (Yakalelo, Yakalelo)
My late father makes you dance the Yakalelo (Yakalelo, Yakalelo)
My late father makes you dance the Yakalelo (Yakalelo, Yakalelo)
My late father makes you dance the Yakalelo (Yakalelo, Yakalelo)
It's your mothers who cry, no it's not ours

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