Album: Amerikkka Macht Frei
Nobody knows who I'm gonna shoot
Nobody knows where I'm gonna hide
Nobody knows if I'll ever show up
Nobody knows what I'm gonna write
Not even my spokesperson
Just in case you want me to...
Nothing will ever match...
Reality and quality of the white lyrics
Sick shit, white trash, deep shit
We all know where you're gonna crash
I will never be what you want me to...
Don't ever expect me to...
I never wanted to please you too
Every time you want me to : Fuck you !
Every time you want me to : Fuck you !
Nothing will ever match...
Reality and quality of the white lyrics
Sick shit, white trash, deep shit
We all know where you're gonna crash
You don't know what I'm gonna say
You don't know who I'm gonna trash
You don't know what I'm gonna drop
You don't know where you're gonna crash
Click chic, sick shit, hit list
Bullshit, black list, hit list
Shit list, hit list, black list
Outta space, outta here