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 [Chorus] 
Peelo 
Gutter ka pani peelo 
Kabhi na kabhi to peelo 
Me hoon hero tu hai zero 
 
[Rapverse1 (Waqas)] 
 
Don't even go there kid you know I'm out of your damn reach 
Your talk is cheap at least I practice what I teach 
And when all systems fail you return to the beats 
But got nothing to say, the chosen one for defeat 
And I spot you in the crowd while I flash in the spotlight 
How you wish you could be more like me and bust over beats tight 
And reach out to these kids 'cause when I speak you know they listen 
I paid the king a visit now he delivers pizza in prison 
You said I was bizarre don't watch stars mob floors 
You see I was hardcore if you gave me less I made it more 
But fuck that one love baby let's hit for that cheddar 
Basically we the same I just make it look better 
 
[Chorus] 
 
[Rapverse2 (Lenny)] 
 
Toma del arroyo de los celos, perros 
Te lo digo en la lengua de mi amigo, peelo 
Te duele toda rima que yo escribo, y sigo 
Siendo en estos montes yo el mero, mero 
Hijo de la gran p*** 
Un momento, respeto a la madre tuya 
Porque eres tu quien es la puta 
Pobrecito toma mi rima y mis contratos 
Quieres estar en mis zapatos 
En la supuesta rampa de la fama 
No vendas la carne antes mata la vaca 
No estas listo nino 
Para una guerra verbal 
Es a mi al que siempre te van a comparar 
 
[Translation:] 
 
Drink of the rivulet of jealousy, dogs 
Now I'll say it in his native tongue, peelo 
You hurting by every single rhyme I write, and I keep 
Been in this countryside the fucking one 
Son of a b**** 
Hold it!! Respect to your mama 
Coz it is you who's the bitch 
Poor little thing, here you have my rhyme and my contracts 
You want to be in my shoes 
In the so-called spotlight 
You know you can't sell the meat before killing the cow 
You ain't ready kid 
To a verbal war 
It will always be me who you gonna be compare to 
 
[Chorus] 
 
[Rapverse3 (Isam)] 
 
You claim that I'm a mammas boy 
'cause I don't smoke or drink alcohol 
She claims that I'm criminal like last weeks thief at the mall 
Some say I don't sound like hip hop suppose to sound 
Ain't got no L.A, N.Y, Dirty South type of sound 
That's what I'm trying say 
I was born and raised here 
Let the Source Magazine cross the sea and represent here 
Tell them how we felt the day Pac got shot 
While they were screaming pour some liquor 
We prayed all night in the mosque 
Tell them how best "pop of the year" is "rap of the year" 
Fuck being nominated 6 times give me "rock the year" 
Ask Jay-B, he'll tell ya, no stormy weather 
Not even the ugliest typhoon could ruin this set up 
I was laughing, TZZZ!!! All the way to the bank 
Changed the whole game based on a pop album prank 
Hell next year for the fun of it 
We do it again, again and again 
2000 and 3, 4, 10 
            
 
HATA BİLDİR
 
 
		
        
        
        
         
         
         
         
        
        
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