[Lyric] Paky - Blauer English Translation (Genius English Translations)

[Intro]
Yeah
Okay
Yeh-yay
Yeh-yao
Diego

[Chorus]
I apologize if I don’t use the Internet
A real ghetto boy is not on the Internet
I do stories on the street, not on Insta
I have envelopes inside the Blauer
You know I die wide as Homer
Tell your club, your promoter
I don’t sell anymore, sell my name
Ten babas, you want my cachet (Ah)
This one who sees me opens her thighs
She’d like a child with my last name
My brother on thе ground doesn’t move
He has tеn years old in his Blauer
[Verse 1]
Son of a bitch, not faggot
I have a real .9, not fake (Not fake)
I say only true, no Pinocchio (Ah)
I put rapper whores on their knees
I wanted a Glock, now I have four
I wanted a kilo, I took eight (I took eight)
I wanted my jeans to be branded
Before I dressed only fake
I put drugs in Vuitton, drugs in my jacket
I put balls and fish together when I fuck her
I spend ten K a month, I don’t give a shit
I’ll just do it again
Glory

[Chorus]
I apologize if I don’t use the Internet
A real ghetto boy is not on the Internet
I do stories on the street, not on Insta
I have envelopes inside the Blauer
You know I die wide as Homer
Tell your club, your promoter
I don’t sell anymore, sell my name
Ten babas, you want my cachet (Ah)
This one who sees me opens her thighs
She’d like a child with my last name
My brother on the ground doesn’t move
He has ten years old (Ah) in his Blauer
[Verse 2]
Son of a bitch, not fiction (Not fiction)
The .9 in your hand doesn’t work (Doesn’t work)
This year I closed two dates in Riccione
The scene in Italy is full of gay
I have over a hundred pieces like a puzzle
The toughest of yours here is a good guy (Ah, oh)
I have over a hundred friends inside the prison
The rest of us outside seem to want to go
Blauer black, T-Max black, looks like we’re splitting
Inside the cell, BerryBlack full of wiretaps
Death in hand, and tomorrow here nobody cares (Ah)
Convictions too long, life is too short

[Chorus]
I apologize if I don’t use the Internet
A real ghetto boy is not on the Internet
I do stories on the street, not on Insta
I have envelopes inside the Blauer
You know I die wide as Homer
Tell your club, your promoter
I don’t sell anymore, sell my name
Ten babas, you want my cachet (Ah)
This one who sees me opens her thighs
She’d like a child with my last name
My brother on the ground doesn’t move
He has ten years old in his Blauer
[Outro]
I apologize if I don’t use the Internet
A real ghetto boy is not on the Internet