King Of The Underground - Duke Montana

Duke Montana, king delle sere nere

Roaving in this rap shit, sangue blu nelle vene

Night ride ready to rock, never legend

Raw on we need come John Lennon

Vent’anni dentra ar gioco senza mai delude

Barre da paura come sesso crudo, le tue so scadute

Stai al passo coi tempi se non vuoi marcì

Ce metti n’attimo a sparì in mezzo a un mare di mc’s

Rides road sotto produzione, perdi la voce

Dalla terra, spunta na croce

E sei sfinito, non sei durato tanto e facevi il divo

Io so un reporter delle zone marce dove vivo

Ho registrato nella mente tutto quello che occorre

Per ottenere inchiostro che scorre

Il sangue dei miei versi, over mind

The king of the underground never die

On the street, road the shit, king of the underground

Kill the beats, make the hits

Da ragazzino nella bisca dice hermano raniero

Giocavo a bijardino e m’ascoltavo lo stereo

Mica la radio, non passavano il rap vero

Quindi mettevo na cassetta in on destino

Public enemy, Gucci rap, Kumodi

Deep and Deem e double W on the this ears

Tutti kings che m’hanno ispirato

Ringrazio a tutti loro se c’ho ancora il fiato

E saluto l’amici della vecchia scuola

Sapete bene chi siete, siamo la storia

I tempi di Babilonia, ve li ricordate?

I pomeriggi passati pe le strade

Del centro, a fare i tag sulle metropolitane

Pe poi ritornà nelle borgate

Voi do cazzo stavate quando io e Seppia

Stavamo in giro coi notturni a fare le nottate?

On the street, road the shit, king of the underground

Kill a be, make the age

L’anno 1991, la prima volta che ho sputato in uno studio

Non ci credevo quando è uscito il vinile

Che onore, si vendeva nei negozi a diecimila lire

I primi soldi da teenagers con i primi live

Andavo a Termini a comprà the solda e pure vai

Pe vestissi hip hop non compravi online

Pe cercà le nuove Jordan ne le nuove Nike

Te le facevi portà da chi andava negli States

Vestivo originale niente fake

Eravamo stilosi, tutti riders

Eravamo tutti più uniti meno haters

Se beccavamo alla vetrina pe ascoltà l’hip hop

I Golden Age rap pe me rimane sempre il top

Il tuo tempo come lo passi

So contento di vedere mio fijo che sta a seguì i miei passi

Duke Montana, king of black evenings

Roaving in this rap shit, blue blood in my veins

Night ride ready to rock, never legend

Raw on we need like John Lennon

Twenty years inside the game without ever disappointing

Fear bars like raw sex, yours are expired

Keep up with the times if you don't want to get rotten

It takes a moment to disappear in the middle of a sea of mc's

Rides road under production, lose your voice

From the earth, a cross emerges

And you're exhausted, you didn't last long and you were a star

I know a reporter from the rotten areas where I live

I have recorded everything needed in my mind

To get ink flowing

The blood of my verses, over mind

The king of the underground never die

On the street, road the shit, king of the underground

Kill the beats, make the hits

As a kid in the gambling den says hermano raniero

I played bijardino and listened to the stereo

Not the radio, they didn't play real rap

So I put a cassette in on destiny

Public enemy, Gucci rap, Kumodi

Deep and Deem and double W on these ears

All kings who inspired me

I thank all of them if I still have breath

And hello to my old school friends

You know who you are, we are history

Do you remember the times of Babylon?

Afternoons spent on the streets

From the centre, to make tags on the subways

Then he will return to the villages

You fuck were you when Sepia and I

Were we going around with nocturnes to have late nights?

On the street, road the shit, king of the underground

Kill a be, make the age

The year 1991, the first time I spat in a studio

I didn't believe it when the vinyl came out

What an honour, it was sold in shops for ten thousand lire

The first money as teenagers with the first live shows

I went to Termini to buy the solda and well go

If you were wearing hip hop, you didn't buy online

Pe looks for the new Jordans in the new Nikes

You were carried by those who went to the States

I wore original, nothing fake

We were stylish, all riders

We were all more united less haters

If we caught in the shop window for listen to hip hop

The Golden Age rap for me always remains the top

How you spend your time

I am happy to see my fijo who is following in my footsteps