Photo de Classe feat. Yoshi, Cheeko, Gaïden, Sad Vicious

I put some weed in the cigarillo
Bastos in my barrel
Nothing to do amor e mio
Kill each other want to ally more
Today in my barillo
Tomorrow I can fly to Cuba
After tomorrow I will be in Rio
First class, accompanied or not
I run around the city in a state of intoxication
I know very little about financial crises
Two, three tickets to buy your brothers
I can buy them for a whole life
A little too commuter I'm not going to mytho
I want to weigh the billion like Pablito
Coup de première, I'm transferring all my capital
Bandito, you won't see me again anytime soon
Appetite, money makes us crazy
I'm not your friends fuck you pay me
I have enough to make my enemies run away
The street syndrome contaminates us
I'm vulgar, ambitious not megalo
Bring me my glass and my
guys There's only the guy in the mirror to equal myself Dive
not when my projects are thrown into the water
I have a hard time give me my balos
I really liked the family, all my salots
I take pennies, I take them and wesh so
I don't look at your plate and yeah bitch
hard to make the million, carnalito hard
to stay righteous in my ghetto
we sold the drugs and the metals
so we hurt our mothers right away the
ordeals saw us grow up very early
That big brigante like Carlito
We don't fight for a whore like these mythos
We fight to pay in restaurants
The others dream of their lives until the host
Gros, the jail weakens the strongest
When we were so-so we were too much
Now there is no one in the photo

Yeah, Now there is no one in the photo (Yeah,
yeah)
Now there is no one in the photo (nobody)
(Now there is no one in the photo)
Except the real ones
Apart from the real ones
Apart from the real ones
Apart from the real ones (the real ones)
Apart from the real ones (the real ones)
Apart from the real ones (the real ones)

I learned life ended up rapping I
finish the bottle, baby the moon is full
Eyes closed, isolated, I barely fall asleep
Duty calls me I'm sorry my beautiful
Duty calls me I am sorry my beautiful
I'm like you, like him, poto the street worries me
I share my joys but never my pain
Except for the happiness of mine and well nothing worries me
Since there's no one left on the photo class
no time, no networks, no reception
More signs of frero, all for a tass
a sincere friendship, broken-in tiek her
I'm in a cul-de-sac, stuck in a stalemate
Old before age like the Scred Connection
Pride and sorrel, poto it takes too much space
Inevitably we separate, knows disappointment
In a cul-de-sac stuck in a dead end
Old before age like the Scred Connection
Pride and sorrel, poto it takes Too much room
Inevitably we separate, knows the disappointment
Sit down hostel for a second
To those who left too early
My brothers are no longer of this world
They note it to you on board a car
And the others dream of their lives until at the
Gros host, the jail weakens the strongest
When we were so little we were too much
Now there is no one left on the photo