GOUT

Yeah

I arrive in Las Palmas looking like Bellingham
With cash to spare and five behind me
We’re not that different, you know
You want a Mini Kelly, I want a minivan

Stacks of cash from the floor to the ceiling
Euros, dollars, and ink on my chest
The road keeps getting narrower
And I’m spitting bars that keep getting wider

Fuck, I’m always fucking on top of the buildings we made with cash
Crazy bitch, I’m gonna take you down
I’ll pull your hair and put you in chains

I’m the fucking man, just how you like it
So they envy you, so they climb on you
I’ll give it to you good, like it should be
So they copy me, so they respect me

Take the crumbs, bitch, Gretel
I disconnect on the straight, Vettel
We learned to count by selling
Now not a euro fits in the check

I’ve been hungrier than a blind man’s dog
And now from Monday to Friday, it’s a feast
I’m halfway to all my dreams
And I don’t want to die before they’re complete

Let God decide what should happen
I just need water, sand, and salt
To feel a little more special
To make my best trap tracks

I need the island with Izak
I made a video call at night, but I also minimized it
And with the volume down, I’m losing it, I’m going crazy
Damn music, what did it do?
Now I’m rich and I don’t want to be rich

I want millions in a cash fan
So when I fan myself, I find peace
And a woman who’ll suck my dick and my balls while I’m getting waxed, ha, facts
Haha, buajaja, they finish in three minutes

They’ve got their dicks in mourning, hmm
This can’t go on, Pluto (yeah)
I’m the plug, seven hundred notes in the pad
It was kilos and kilos on the block
And now it’s fifteen grand in the clubs, hmm (yeah)

Twins twins, I want two glocks, twins like Eladio Carrión
That bitch wants me to give it to her, and I swear I’m gonna give it to her
I want that contract for myself, I’m gonna fill that stadium
I don’t have much more to say, I love you all, go with God

The Panther, baby