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X-Plosive - Bellucci (English) lyrics

[Refrain: Booba]
Always fresh, I remain on the surface
As the ice cubes in my Chivas
It is not henna on my face
Relinks ashore
I have the AR, I ski mask
O-R chains on primates
I'm Stan Smith at Adidas
J'monte 300 # Leonidas
Your life hangs by a phone call
Ta Hlel hangs by a dick stroke
Sergeant Kopp'zer in the cockpit
Too bling'zer to the portico

[Verse 1: Booba]
I'm on the net'zer in the street
Married to hate as Bellucci
Nigga, you are fake as your Gucci
I know what to put, I am too well off
I beg you, my walk on Zanotti
This is the weight of arms, not words, which weighs me
It's not rocket handjob but deafening you
What a crappy brand door Matuidi
With us, saying nothing, everything has been said
Always live the Mothership
I had Alzheimer's when they questioned me
When j'pense to you, I think missionary, not legionnaire
I'm posting in the room your mother
In the commissioner's office
I'm cocaine, you're sleeping pill
My God, how many fake niggas proliferate
I have the best flow of the universe
My Glock my first wife, so I left to Lucie
J'gagne the lottery, 20 smoke join
J'voyage badly as a lo-ki-ing in the will
When they ask me, the harki talks to Three Monkeys
J'te draws a large ball as a gnocchi in the larynx

[Verse 2: Future]
It's murder for hire
I put coke in the tires
I got dope on the flight
There's birds on the Phantom
Burning money like Cam'ron
[Lyrics from: https:/lyrics.az/x-plosive/-/bellucci-english.html]
Coming straight out the gutter
Drinking that dirty Sprite syrup
I fuck all your kids and your mother
Me and young Booba, we bosses
Down in Miami we flossin'
I just be tripping with flavor
They call like, “Where is the sauce?”
I got a kilo and bought me a kilo
Tony Montana and I got the yayo
These bitches be loving a nigga for hitting a hater
Shit, these bitch ass niggas won't let me have my moment
Knock and dodges to my enemy
Bagging up, selling these coca leaves
Then I go take me a shopping spree
I want a brand new AR with a 100-round drum on it
That money really make her cum, bitch
Then go put your tongue on it
That bitch really yours, nigga?
You better put alarm on it
I ain't go to Harvard, nigga
That's word to my momma, nigga
I put that presidential Rollie on that bitch
And then she mine, my nigga
I grind and I shine, my nigga
I ain't wasting no time, my nigga
I'm smashing your freak on the passenger seat
Shoot at you niggas, saying, “Fuck all the beef!”
I got ammo for days
Run around in the Caymans
Mac-11 in the Bentley
And I ride for my real niggas
Only God can judge me
When you live like a field nigga
When you don't feel niggas
Sometimes you gotta kill niggas

[Outro: Future]
Word up to my motherfucking riders, ya heard me?
Everybody getting sprayed up right now
I can't keep out these hoes XXX
They might turn on me, mo'fucker
I'm ‘bout to got a blue story nigga
Shit ‘bout to get real uncomfortable for you niggas, ya heard?
Booba ! Belucci! Freebandz! Freebandz! Freebandz!
Wooh

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