Lacrim – Gustavo Gaviria (English lyrics)

Intro :
I slept on a cloud
Your savings are worth less than my wife’s jacket
The money, tell them, Mike, we want money
Money, listen Lacrim, go get this money

Unique verse :
Hey Melancoly is over
I’ve got some pure hidden in my package
You son of a bitch, I’m the Real Madrid
Your team, homie, is Mongolia
Fuck your mother, your sister, and Twitter
Pour des choses on n’a pas de buteur (??)
Homie, they call me “marigot”
I make 20 kilos of powder disapear in 48 hours
It’s true, I drink Dom Pérignon
I make money, and I’ll take them on
This year, I probably made a million
I smoke hash and stare at the great bear
Most of those guys are chumps
The rap game needs crouches
I wake up, I’ve got a sea front view
Baby, I’ve got to hang up, there’s Phillip Plein calling me
Breakfast, joint, coffee
If I haven’t slept then it’s some Jack
I take the Jet Ultra 2.50
On stage I make pussys wet
We kill each other, we reproduce
She’s 20 years old, she’s already a widow
We sell all sorts of products, homie
Even plasma screens to blind people
If you’re a bitch you’ll never get the good ones
Special shout out to le chaw and le blond
There’s no other solution
Like Pablo would say, it’s either money or lead
They’re all about apparence, they like to portray themselves as thugs
After a week end in the night club
The following week the only thing they’ll be chewing on is their straws
We don’t have the same goals, not the same bitches
Not the same pants
We don’t have the same lives, not the same girls
Not the same feats
France has me on a watch list, a danger mister officer
Madam I’m not rich, I’m just a poor that has money
I was born to make money, or to make horror
If I ever give them any freedom it’s only in order for them to make a mistake
Ask Seb, they’re all a bunch of clowns
These fools fall into the trap
With your scholarship the only thing you can buy yourself is a paddleboat
They’re all ill with Ebola
I’m short like Nicolas
You represent all those sons of bitches than run away
Me, I’m the dollars value
Fuengirola, Benalmádena
Ferrari on the coast all the way to Marbella
Money makes heads spin
Just two or three more millions and I’m getting away from here
For Jean-Mi’ and Sami
They’re paying a hell of a price, the rap game is like an interim
As soon as I get out of prison, it’s the end of their contract
You won’t be able to do nothing about it, not even pray to Madone
If you want to say something, raise your finger, I’ll give you permission

Outro :
Lacrim, R.I.P.R.O 2
(Ehh) If you want to say something, raise your finger, I’ll give you permission
Big up to you if you’re working or if you’re smuggling tons


Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *