Ihr Ficker
Scheuklappen auf, Sniper-Rifle im Arm
Buzz-Krüger-Toys erwachen im unbeschreiblichen Wahnsinn
Fataler Amoklauf, schick sie zu Hades
Schreib mir 'ne Karte, sag wie isses dort
Sehr passabel, nur ein klein bisschen warm
Ich liquidier' jeden einzelnen deiner Art
Ruf zum Battle, aber keiner kommt
Als ging es drum in Chicago Streife zu fahr'n
Das Tourlife ist heikel, ihr verspürt nicht die leiseste Scham
Reitet eifrig den Aal und schlaft abends mit 'nem Steifen im Arsch
Es wird Nacht, die Gase entweichen dem Darm
Und das nennt man grade sein
Frage, warum greifen hier nicht deine Regeln wie Kraken?
Du Made parkst deinen Wagen vorm Artemis
Wartest das jemand Hardcore Sympathisches dir die Sahne warm in die Haare wichst
Phase ist, siehst du frischen Dick und wirst nahezu magisch angezogen
Stürzt dich drauf wie unterzuckerter Habicht
Das ist Marketing 2.0, aktueller Status: Rapper labern radikal
Doch blasen sich in die höchsten Etagen
Du menschliche Fassung eines Ed-Hardy-Caps
Ich werf 'n gigantischen Monolith auf deinen Schädel bis er quadratisch ist
Streife nachts in Camouflage um das Badeschiff
Kill MCs und zieh' sie auf zu 'ner Kette, die länger als der Äquator misst
Scheiß egal, wenn's sein muss
Schweiss dir 'nen Bart an, pfeiff dir 'ne Mate
Angry Birds in real, über ihnen kreisen die Adler
Ich war leise bis dato, aber was habt ihr Schweine erwartet?
Ein Hai mit diesen Maßen hier passt nicht in ein kleines Aquarium
Eine Frage, sag mir
Glaubt ihr an die wahre Liebe?
Glaubt ihr wirklich, die Wichser rappen noch wenn sie keine Gage kriegen?
Also glaubt ihr an die wahre Liebe, huh?
Ich tu's erst, wenn sie alle tot in 'nem Graben liegen!
Glaubt ihr an die wahre Liebe?
Glaubt ihr wirklich, die Wichser rappen noch wenn sie keine Gage kriegen?
Also glaubt ihr an die wahre Liebe, huh?
Ich tu's erst, wenn sie alle tot in 'nem Graben liegen!
Von und zu Deluxe, verleih mir selbst 'n Adelstitel
Fahr 'ne Riesenkarre, seh' wie and're Stars ihr Fahrrad schieben
Gratuliere, willkomm' zum Gipfeltreffen, lass Hip-Hop retten
Rugged Man, Mister Deluxe und Savas Abi
Diese Killakombo, ein iller Mongo mit wahrer Liebe
Für dies' Hip-Hop-Ding und mein Mittelfinger total solide
Also bitte bring mir diese Rapper her, egal, wie viele
In einem Jahr füllt ihr alle wieder das Regal bei Lidl
Deine Frau hat Dschungelfieber, steht auf Schokoladenriegel
Sie glaubt wohl nicht an die wahre Liebe, scheint kein Schlaf zu kriegen
Das kann wie beim Fakir mit Nagelbett am Nageln liegen
Naheliegend, deshalb grinst sie auch den ganzen Tag zufrieden
Ihr solltet unsere Namen und die, dieser Rapper niemals in einem Satz erwähnen
So wie die Worte ?Erdogan? und ?Ziege?
Ich mache Butter bei die Fische, scheiß auf Margarine
Wo ist da der Haken wie Karabiner? Es hagelt Hiebe
Ich stehle Rappern das Spotlight, sie steh'n auf Schattenspiele
Träne im Auge, wie Harlekine, wenn ich gerade spitte
Die Nullen wären gern' Einsen, doch sind nur Datendiebe
Steuern aufs Ende zu wie '96 Pac im Beamer
Ihr hängt auf Tour nur mit Affen rum, so wie Justin Bieber
Dreh am Ende auf als hätt' ich 'ne Extrabatterie da
Statt Pokémons zu jagen, analysiert den Part hier lieber
Ende vom Verse, jetzt kennt ihr den Curse Text
Ihr Ficker
Glaubt ihr an die wahre Liebe?
Glaubt ihr wirklich, die Wichser rappen noch wenn sie keine Gage kriegen?
Also glaubt ihr an die wahre Liebe, huh?
Ich tu's erst, wenn sie alle tot in 'nem Graben liegen!
Glaubt ihr an die wahre Liebe?
Glaubt ihr wirklich, die Wichser rappen noch wenn sie keine Gage kriegen?
Also glaubt ihr an die wahre Liebe, huh?
Ich tu's erst, wenn sie alle tot in 'nem Graben liegen!
Ich bin live von den Straßen Berlins
Came from New York City, Home of the crack fiends
Address carefully, choose my response
Alternative für Deutschland, lutsch meinen Schwanz
Like Kool Savas say it, LMS
Frauke Petry is the devil in the flesh
No justice, no peace, fuck swat gun cock
Buck shot, blood clot, bum drop, run cop
Rebelliere gegen das System
I spit on your grave and I piss on ya name
I come through ya hood with Jérôme Boateng
I break all your bones and I show no shame
Wenn ich komme, der weiße Ritter
Lecke meinen Arsch, du Mutterficker!
Fight, fight, translate, kämpf, kämpf, kämpf
I ignite fright night fake sense get tense
Not white hype rhyme tight master suspense
Ich bin Meister des Engineerens, Meuterei
Fick die amerikanische Polizei
Die hard bitch yippee ki-yay Schweinebacke
Mach ihn tot, fick die schmutzige Ratte
Stopping the system, stomping the opposition
Maybe they not gonna listen
I stay be dropping the wisdom, this is an unpopular position
Break laws in Deutsch, alle brechen das Gesetz
Pop in your maxell or memorex cassette decks go
Glaubt ihr an die wahre Liebe?
Glaubt ihr wirklich, die Wichser rappen noch wenn sie keine Gage kriegen?
Also glaubt ihr an die wahre Liebe, huh?
Ich tu's erst, wenn sie alle tot in 'nem Graben liegen!
Glaubt ihr an die wahre Liebe?
Glaubt ihr wirklich, die Wichser rappen noch wenn sie keine Gage kriegen?
Also glaubt ihr an die wahre Liebe, huh?
Ich tu's erst, wenn sie alle tot in 'nem Graben liegen!
No doubt
Futuristic rap shit in the [?]
I eat at an emcee's heart
What is he thinking? How not to go against me, smart
No doubt
Futuristic rap shit in the [?]
I eat at an emcee's heart
What is he thinking? How not to go against me, smart
No doubt
Kool Savas is a performer born in 1975. Their discography includes Wer hatz erfunden?, Der beste Tag meines Lebens, Optik Takeover, Best of Kool Savas and Haus + Boot. They are a member of MOR.
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I was about 6 years old when I listened for the first time "Blowing in the wind" hummed by my mom while she was accompanying me to school, the version was the Italian one, but I liked the rhythm right away.