***BEFORE THE VERSE*** I miss the strippers Play clips clever Your hands don't make the shots Even.'" Medium with 6K bumped up bodies with Evkem Pepper Tripping on every ball Hepagheta army testing Perfect air band can have us hurt Get heartache but like to drink Quagen A few cups, I'd rather hate Got two runners, make a shot Got a hiding place, towels as curtains Ey Crack a magpie, rapide Lie in the apartment, a few records like Dazige Junkies, vampires in the yard where I weigh Even if I go to jail, no class myth You do what I want until I lie flat in my grave Ey Take another sip, move in and fly Love the color of lime like rubies Plan upchecks, feel like routine 100 maggots, my driver is solid 200 bottles are almost too many to carry Almost 300, maximum 8 Time, work, time, the couriers Don't take wings, only cars and trains Play baguette tournaments in the back room Sell a ruin out of the broken house Breathe to make money, I know so many Watch out that I don't touch a vacuum There were junkies in the apartment, one was on opium The other had cancer and died a lot In front of my eyes I saw a lot of things that I can never tell I was so young, I took everything, it was simple But stupid, had an earworm every night Sat in my small room, dreamt of Honsum Ey, ach, we don't do all this since yesterday, my ach Ey, it's still as loud, the same people as back then Ach, party for everyone, my boys would have thought Ach, *** on rap, on white money, on the chains, *** on DJs On the song, forget the whole eye surgery It's a world, it's all the same, my ach Ach, that was music Okay, ice knife Ice, ice knife Woah