Ambaciata
Yo! Wollt Ihr wissen, was ich treib', wenn ich rappe? Geschichten, die ich höre, Sachen, die ich neu entdecke.
Alle fragen sich: Ey Mann, was der hat, das hab' ich nicht. Viele schaden sich und mit Kritik, ja, da spar' ich nicht.
Seit ich siebzehn bin, Alda, wollt' ich nie woanders hin. Für mich war der Rapscheiss ein totaler Neubeginn.
Pack' die Chance am Schopf und wie Toni der Koch serviere ich ein Wortspielmenü. Was wollt Ihr noch?
Ich bin jung, schwarz, gross, mach' den alten Omas Angst, scheiss' auf ihren Respekt, scheiss' auf ihre Akzeptanz.
Wechseln auf der Strasse die Strassenseite, in der Bahn den Platz, beobachten mich voll, auch wenn ich mich kurz kratz'.
Also tauch' ich unter, tief, so dass mich keiner sieht. Undercover-Styles, das ist kein Stress, das ist Krieg.
Ich hab' so viel Verbündete, keiner wollt's mir glauben, als ich dies verkündete. Ich liebe meine Leute,
meine Leute lieben mich. Vielleicht lieb' ich auch Dich, vielleicht aber auch nicht. Das werden wir sehen.
By the Scores transatlantic like Arabs and Berbers Warriors slash black Lord carrying Torches
map the warpath Blackboards attack your Fortress back to back in the soldiers Quarters
following Orders draw Swords as we forge Borders and want more for our Sons and Daughters.
We close Doors, change Course to uncharted Waters, it's martial Law. We taking over storming Ports on the Shore, but what for?
We were stolen, sold to work for what's yours Balterzar saw the North Star, Arabian Moor gave Gifts to the Poor.
Then they gave us Slave Labor disrespected us more, we expected forty Acres, then they gave us three forths.
Now we free rebirthing with the Bulk of the Force reimburse us for the Holocaust talk to the Boss.
Snatch your Purse if you've got more yearning to floss smack you worse than your Papa no Words lost.
We up to par raw Shit now Stacatto the Bar. I seen the Niggas in your Click, we could tackle 'em all!
Yo, we black and that's it me and Afrob, Bomb Plot, gunnin' this Shit. Yo, we runnin' this Shit, we getting rich taking Paper because this Hunger's a Bitch.
Yeah, yeah, yeah! Yeah, yeah, yeah!
Step back, respect it! We got it locked on the Top. We some Niggas on some next Shit gunning the Block.
Step back, respect it! We got it locked on the Top. We some Niggas on some next Shit top of the Notch.
Step back, respect it! We got it locked on the Top. We some Niggas on some next Shit gunning the Block.
Step back, respect it! We got it locked on the Top. We some Niggas on some next Shit top of the Notch.
Step back, respect it!
Respect it! Yeah, respect that Shit to the nine-nine! real Shit! Me and Afrob!
And we won't stop! Never, never! All the Time!
Alle fragen sich: Ey Mann, was der hat, das hab' ich nicht. Viele schaden sich und mit Kritik, ja, da spar' ich nicht.
Seit ich siebzehn bin, Alda, wollt' ich nie woanders hin. Für mich war der Rapscheiss ein totaler Neubeginn.
Pack' die Chance am Schopf und wie Toni der Koch serviere ich ein Wortspielmenü. Was wollt Ihr noch?
Ich bin jung, schwarz, gross, mach' den alten Omas Angst, scheiss' auf ihren Respekt, scheiss' auf ihre Akzeptanz.
Wechseln auf der Strasse die Strassenseite, in der Bahn den Platz, beobachten mich voll, auch wenn ich mich kurz kratz'.
Also tauch' ich unter, tief, so dass mich keiner sieht. Undercover-Styles, das ist kein Stress, das ist Krieg.
Ich hab' so viel Verbündete, keiner wollt's mir glauben, als ich dies verkündete. Ich liebe meine Leute,
meine Leute lieben mich. Vielleicht lieb' ich auch Dich, vielleicht aber auch nicht. Das werden wir sehen.
By the Scores transatlantic like Arabs and Berbers Warriors slash black Lord carrying Torches
map the warpath Blackboards attack your Fortress back to back in the soldiers Quarters
following Orders draw Swords as we forge Borders and want more for our Sons and Daughters.
We close Doors, change Course to uncharted Waters, it's martial Law. We taking over storming Ports on the Shore, but what for?
We were stolen, sold to work for what's yours Balterzar saw the North Star, Arabian Moor gave Gifts to the Poor.
Then they gave us Slave Labor disrespected us more, we expected forty Acres, then they gave us three forths.
Now we free rebirthing with the Bulk of the Force reimburse us for the Holocaust talk to the Boss.
Snatch your Purse if you've got more yearning to floss smack you worse than your Papa no Words lost.
We up to par raw Shit now Stacatto the Bar. I seen the Niggas in your Click, we could tackle 'em all!
Yo, we black and that's it me and Afrob, Bomb Plot, gunnin' this Shit. Yo, we runnin' this Shit, we getting rich taking Paper because this Hunger's a Bitch.
Yeah, yeah, yeah! Yeah, yeah, yeah!
Step back, respect it! We got it locked on the Top. We some Niggas on some next Shit gunning the Block.
Step back, respect it! We got it locked on the Top. We some Niggas on some next Shit top of the Notch.
Step back, respect it! We got it locked on the Top. We some Niggas on some next Shit gunning the Block.
Step back, respect it! We got it locked on the Top. We some Niggas on some next Shit top of the Notch.
Step back, respect it!
Respect it! Yeah, respect that Shit to the nine-nine! real Shit! Me and Afrob!
And we won't stop! Never, never! All the Time!
Credits
Writer(s): Robert Zemichiel, Thomas Wittinger, Ahmed Sekou Neblett
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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