[Intro]
This is how you cook, yo
Jesus Christ, Kubi
[Verse]
I came, I cussed there, like rapper of the year
My bones have the Nike logo, I'm the voice of the blocks
After the Popkillers, I'm out clubbing with Baila Ella
I ain't afraid of a knife in my back, you'll be scared of the Rottweiler
TNs match my shaved head
First the trial, then I'm coming for the awards
This the year of Mateusz, the tracksuit era
They pull out phones It's tempting not to steal them
No words can describe thе poverty
Three chains are hanging, not giving a fuck what you write today
I feel likе Zorro from the other side of the barricade
You feel like Zoro, you don't mean anything unless you have a sword in your mouth
They chat about us, not the city but the whole country
Seven years been fucking it up and there's no one in Poland like me
Many times I've doubted myself, but there's always a day I sit down and devour
I just wanted a sweet life like Bambi
It was the sight of sorrows at home that made me fight for what's mine
I feed the parrots, Mati is an animal lover
Just like Uber Eats, you're guaranteed that I'll deliver
I don't hang around with the influencers
I don't want snakes in my company
Even if you secretly record me, you will still see Hip Hop
All she wanted was sex, sex, sex, sex, sex, sex
No matter how many times I mention this, she still wants it
Bitches are into hooligans, bald and tatted
Who resolve problems with headbutts
In today's times everyone acts hard behind the computer, face to face they can barely breathe as if they had taken fentanyl
If you want a good series, then invite T-O-M-B
After each of my verses, you know that in Poland no one does it better
I'm no enemy of the underground, on the speakers you can hear Okekel
I know very well that you lot don't like me, but I wish the best
At concerts, the crowds, give me wings like Red Bulls
And we take over the clubs, but no one protests
It was me who told Chivas to go on his own
This isn't the label era anymore, don't you realise this kid?
I don't play Lotto, yet the cash still accumulates
If a homie ever gets in trouble, I'll fire off some shots for him
I'm doing an invasion like Roko, them bitches would like to enter the backstage, drink Jack although their men are waiting at home
I'm vindictive, won't let sadness take over again
Ups and downs, once Aperol, and once benzo with vodka
I remember how the cunts pointed out to me one verse
Here you have 64 ways to kill hate (skrrt)
I ask Morag: “Where's the key to the city?”
I was supposed to have it, but apparently I'm causing too much trouble
This is trap motherfuckers, everything I do it's all for the family
Grah, grah, grah, homie I feel like Wini
Because for hundred percent I won't be playing around If a celebrity mocks me
Passion still sits inside me, it's like a housewife
Who's always thinking about what to cook today
Your one is spoiled whenever she grabs the mic (fucking bitch)
Then she has a problem when you bring back small cash
Sympathy is the only thing I can give rappers today
Compare me with anyone and you won't ask why
Sick with schizophrenia you taught me empathy
This the last time I rap about my dad
I'm a demon because I've worked my way through hell
I already have everything under control, now it's time to focus on the competition
On the grave's quote, my heart is still bleeding
Two thousand one hundred and fifteen wounds, all of which I had to stich up
Dear dad, I pray for your soul
Do not worry about mom, signed by Mateusz
This is how you cook, yo
Jesus Christ, Kubi
[Verse]
I came, I cussed there, like rapper of the year
My bones have the Nike logo, I'm the voice of the blocks
After the Popkillers, I'm out clubbing with Baila Ella
I ain't afraid of a knife in my back, you'll be scared of the Rottweiler
TNs match my shaved head
First the trial, then I'm coming for the awards
This the year of Mateusz, the tracksuit era
They pull out phones It's tempting not to steal them
No words can describe thе poverty
Three chains are hanging, not giving a fuck what you write today
I feel likе Zorro from the other side of the barricade
You feel like Zoro, you don't mean anything unless you have a sword in your mouth
They chat about us, not the city but the whole country
Seven years been fucking it up and there's no one in Poland like me
Many times I've doubted myself, but there's always a day I sit down and devour
I just wanted a sweet life like Bambi
It was the sight of sorrows at home that made me fight for what's mine
I feed the parrots, Mati is an animal lover
Just like Uber Eats, you're guaranteed that I'll deliver
I don't hang around with the influencers
I don't want snakes in my company
Even if you secretly record me, you will still see Hip Hop
All she wanted was sex, sex, sex, sex, sex, sex
No matter how many times I mention this, she still wants it
Bitches are into hooligans, bald and tatted
Who resolve problems with headbutts
In today's times everyone acts hard behind the computer, face to face they can barely breathe as if they had taken fentanyl
If you want a good series, then invite T-O-M-B
After each of my verses, you know that in Poland no one does it better
I'm no enemy of the underground, on the speakers you can hear Okekel
I know very well that you lot don't like me, but I wish the best
At concerts, the crowds, give me wings like Red Bulls
And we take over the clubs, but no one protests
It was me who told Chivas to go on his own
This isn't the label era anymore, don't you realise this kid?
I don't play Lotto, yet the cash still accumulates
If a homie ever gets in trouble, I'll fire off some shots for him
I'm doing an invasion like Roko, them bitches would like to enter the backstage, drink Jack although their men are waiting at home
I'm vindictive, won't let sadness take over again
Ups and downs, once Aperol, and once benzo with vodka
I remember how the cunts pointed out to me one verse
Here you have 64 ways to kill hate (skrrt)
I ask Morag: “Where's the key to the city?”
I was supposed to have it, but apparently I'm causing too much trouble
This is trap motherfuckers, everything I do it's all for the family
Grah, grah, grah, homie I feel like Wini
Because for hundred percent I won't be playing around If a celebrity mocks me
Passion still sits inside me, it's like a housewife
Who's always thinking about what to cook today
Your one is spoiled whenever she grabs the mic (fucking bitch)
Then she has a problem when you bring back small cash
Sympathy is the only thing I can give rappers today
Compare me with anyone and you won't ask why
Sick with schizophrenia you taught me empathy
This the last time I rap about my dad
I'm a demon because I've worked my way through hell
I already have everything under control, now it's time to focus on the competition
On the grave's quote, my heart is still bleeding
Two thousand one hundred and fifteen wounds, all of which I had to stich up
Dear dad, I pray for your soul
Do not worry about mom, signed by Mateusz
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