Stockholm ain't got M1s, gats or killing skills Verbal glock clipsIn the hands of suburban hiphopkidsShit hits the fan like a moshpitFront row at a Marilyn Manson concertYou only open your mouth when my semen hitsMaking cuts and busting Slugs like emo kidsRip that wallet from your sweaty palmsI swipe your cash like it's a credit cardThen have your girlfriend suck my cockYadayada flow like water yada fucking dahThe same lines everytime like Dane CookFucking update your status like facebookRappers blingblinging like they're really pimpsStockholm ain't got M1s, gats or killing skillsJust matches, gasoline and pictures of Fifty's cribDon't need a crew to write stuff And fight fucks thinking they're white thugsI stand alone like asian guys at nightclubsLaughing at your flock and that shit youre wearingThe next line your posse writes will be your obituary
för du kan röka någonting som gör en skön och fårallting att kännas som det går att garva åt