Get back in the Dark, you stab me in the back You're like the Nasdaq, your place is at the back Of the bus coz there is something you'll never be able to find out You think your verse hits like an arrow, dreaming being the king of the Soho But you hate and you're fake and your breast, turns quick like a fucking “mégalo” Your flow is so low, your mind is so closed, wherever you go, you think you're a pro You've just been a pseudo, like one week ago You raised your ego, it was your first show And then, the next day you wish not gonna be the same Maintaining a bottomless ignorance My pain is as deep as the big hole in your brain What remains? Nothing, but everything you should feel ashamed You stand here, but blame anyone who dresses not the same You wonder why your style is not yet a billboard worldwide Even little brother said: "it'd fit better to a cow than I" You loose, the few of soul when you get to the interview You are screwed, when you showed, lyrics were not written by your Left-hand, right-hand, anyway you never learned how to use your hands Pulling at its peak the ignorance, that's in your head
You build a character of a wealthy criminal Without style, you don’t reach Al Pacino’s role Your aims and hope are just led by the Hype You get some good sleep with it every night I wonder why Hip Hop doesn’t rhyme with hope I wonder why it’s always linked to this fucking dope Your aims and hope are just led by the Hype You look for input where there is no light
Since we said that the way you’re dressed Hasn’t got better since you were eight I would not use one of my shirts to be my carpet Now, I understand why your name doesn’t rhyme with taste I guess you need to take a breath Or you gonna receive stuff to your face You love to make some video clips and again do pretend to be in the list Of genius singers that we can call real artists But a real one does not pay a woman to take part in movies He respects the gender and don’t even think wearing fake jewellerys Never gonna be the one you think Since expenses are more than what gets in You wanna buy a nice car, an Aston Martin, You “pimp your ride” with a shitty green But you didn’t know how to read your balance sheet, Would have been an appropriate thing… So you headed to the bank, with plenty of crank Looking at the guy that tells ya : “Man, money is all spent” And the rap idol asks for money to the bank And the bank says, “Yes… Well… No you can’t. With your budget, you better buy a pant…