Co'Sang NG feat Jake La Furia - Paper heartless
Co'Sang NG feat Jake La Furia - Paper heartless
[Jack Fury]
Thanks to my mother I have blood in Sicily, son of Norman
Brother I reasoned with the spreads.
Head hot, hybrid, bastard race. What
Padania? My verse is about revenge Vedetta Lombarda. Garrone
Fuck my book is heartless
Brother speaks of all those who grew up in a tower block in another region.
He gets up for work an hour to go to bed, and there
thinks because he speaks in Italian dialect.
his neighborhood call it ghetto
and there was only one who can think that the name is not perfect.
no money in the factory, the picket
Brother out there if you think what took place in an hour with a bag.
The exclusion puts the iron in the hands of a good deed.
Bum, Fire! I put on fire my nation.
When will the salary, but the accounts and it is too little.
When you get there and miss the market: between, caught fire. If
Christmas fireworks shoot them with one another,
if you do not have a dick and grow up with smoking and alcohol.
The uniforms are infamous, not just send the dogs.
The logic of the system gives birth to criminals.
See the face of a woman who cries alone at night:
has a husband, brother, father, son and uncle in jail.
's a story of humiliation, FRA. And the book with our names
is heartless like the world that nurtures its writers.
Rit. You write with your name, write it with the gun or you write it with the sweat: Brother is a book without a heart. Among the pages the pain, the smell of his land: he tells of this life to those who do not want to see it. (X2)
['nt]
Not only are the records of friends in the police headquarters and found the heads of leather inside the house: your fucking business.
Narcotics absorb the precarious life is now like a rash, they sacrifice the Gift.
And every shot is a chapter, where the streets are the sentences, the number of each place is the title of a paragraph, age the number of pages. Agnostic our tears and the tragic thing is that this is fascinating reading. And what you say I do not care, (the Kingdom of) the Two Sicilies still paying debts to the North. Heroin addicts and workers, the failure of the euro in Europe. But shelters for radio you again, in the words and hypnotic rhythms. Book a private room, the fury with Ensi with me. The drug in head and speak with gestures and walls advantages. Love is wicked. 2007: casino for power. The chair is my throne. Do your Bucchino, waiting for you.
Rit. You write with your name, write it with the gun or you write it with the sweat: Brother is a book without a heart. Among the pages the pain, the smell of the land: tells the story of this life to those who do not want to see it. (X2)
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