Boef – Jaar Geleden (English lyrics)

Intro :
Look at them, look at them working and shit
Oh yeah, they are inside
I don’t do anything (x3)
Free whikey, free Koevoet, throw that Koevoet
He holds Koevoet, and what does he got there also Koevoet.
Whikey say something in the camera.
Free whikey men !

1st Verse (Boef) :
A year ago I was stuck in jail and I had no future goals
Now I’m a rapper, and can even fuck your mom
Homies with the Hoodies, are afraid of waiting too long
Jumping out of the Peugeot, because you have to surprise
Shit on my name, ask the hood I’m allowed to speak !
You have to share your bed with a woman, never your money !
Homies have cocaine hidden in their furniture
And if you have legal money, you have to share it with the banks
That’s why we have illegal money. Money is all that counts
And every hero who snitches gets punched 
My mother told me when I was a little boy, later you will be the men
Jail made me rap, I’ve never been grateful for it
Guys who live because of drugs, never stay home
That we live for pussy is something that you can forget about
Police in the hood, but I let them leave
Don’t know if you got something on you, but be careful
It can be that I stab you for k’s (1000), no I’m no backstabber
I’m with a boy which harvests or sow’s no linesmen
You can punish me, but know your limits
And if the police searches me I’m across the border… Judge
It’s cold outside, so I commit a red handed, never get caught red handed
Commit crimes on a empty stomach
I never got hired, you saw us skip jobs
Those were the times where we went hustlin’ with curfew’s
I asked a dutch guy to give me some junkies, and he gave me his dad’s number
Sons fucked up the windows, and the mothers had to clean them
I make music now, hopefully rap is the way out
But I’m still a thief, look out where you hide your loot
Look my dad listens to my tracks and is proud that is important
Mesouh and I understand there is still a chance that I receive bitch slaps (Ottoman hands)
Yeah I’m the one, who can get rid of your stuff
No fingers for your fist mate
And I call it Manuel labor
Talking about keys
But you only lose your teeth
I’m in the streets where the fuck would I sell it otherwise
Kids won’t hesitate. Give a tip and we do it
And I don’t care bro, it doesn’t matter even if it is in Waregem
I’m on the streets and I can tell you it’s hot
Koevoet is burning (in jail)
I can tell you there’s cake
It’s gone with the wind, like incense
But I’m always on the run like a pilot
I’m on the road with thiefs or dealers
And I shine in the daytime you never see me at night
I’m on the road with thiefs or dealer
And yesterday I bought some jeans, but I’d rather steal them

BOEF!

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