Kaaris - 2.7 Zéro 10.17 ft. Gucci Mane (English lyrics)

Intro : Gucci Mane
It’s Gucci
Burr, burr
Skrt

Chorus (Kaaris) :
Voulez-vous coucher avec moi ? Biatch, biatch
Voulez-vous coucher avec moi ? Biatch, biatch
Voulez-vous coucher avec moi ? Biatch, biatch
In the Maybach or in the woods
We’re armed like in Rio
Pissed off like Tchéko Karyo, golden watch, cigarillos
I only fear the most high, the most high

1st verse (Kaaris) :
We’re ready, we’re going to fuck you guys up
Indeed, extraterrestrial flow, I come from Vulcain
One on one with the authority, I’m a mutineer
Wanna test me, you smoke too much, you’re seeing leprechauns
Double contact in the penalty area
They plundered Africa, I demand reparations
Please, lock me up in the strip club
Close your eyes, open your mouth, think on a Mr. freeze
We knocked down all the doors, my gang entered
Always fresh, new pair of sneaks like back to school day
You don’t want to ? Pill in your glass à la Bill Cosby
Nothing but tackles, strong defense like the tifosi

2nd verse (Gucci Mane) :
Gucci Mane, I’m the fucking man
I’m the man, bitch
What you saying? What the fuck you saying?
Can’t understand bih
Selling grams right from Birmingham to Amsterdam bih
How the little East Atlanta nigga land in Paris?
Chopper in hand and I’m going ham, might chop a blam bih
If you didn’t come here with Brick Squad, then you better scram quick
Got my own clothing line, call that shit Delantic
And 1017 I own it, I’m my own Atlantic
Excuse my french, I’m so fucking rich that I think I’m the shit
Got a shotgun and toked in my trench and I be going blitz
Say I’m insane, say I’m going crazy, I’m about to clip
Say I’m sick and I need a fix and ain’t that ’bout a bitch
30 grams, got that in my pocket ain’t that ’bout a brick?
Look at my neck look at my wrist I fuckin’ think I’m Slick Rick
And these folks keep on stalking me, I got them in a twist
If they try to give me 50 years, then I’mma jump the fence

3rd verse (Kaaris) :
Not guilty, it’s my lawyer that pleads it
The racists want me to go back to my country
On the deck of the ship with the Famas
The bodies were found on the low tide
Hitman, you can call me the Jackal
Some storms, it’s the lead shower’s season
All these fake niggas think they’re fashionable
They’re all busted, these niggas smell of KFC even at the morgue

Outro (Gucci Mane) :
Skrt, skrt
Kaaris
French East Atlanta
Guwop, guwop
Voulez-vous coucher avec moi ?