Dope 2 - Emis Killa, 6ix9ine, PashaPG

Sono in strada che piscio all’una di notte sopra sta clèr

Sono in giro con malandrini, puttane e facce da SerT

Al mio collo solo oro giallo perché è il colore del grano

Per l’Italia un alieno, lascio cerchi nel grano

Ho rispetto della mia gente a Milano come giù a Brooklyn

Questi bianchi fanno gli Yankee, per loro questo flow è Putin

Auto dalla Germania, moda italiana, tipa latina

Fai lo scemo coi miei, ti cadono I denti tipo fatina

Dentro I pezzi fai il macho, solo menzogne (solo menzogne)

No tu fra', tu stai bene a Uomini e Donne

Vita cruda, ma con più pregi che contro

Dio mi ignora, ma ho un po' di K sul conto

No, non mi è ancora scesa, parlo a rilento, guido veloce

Un’istituzione come la Chiesa, quando mi vedi fatti la croce (amen)

Questo sole ci cuoce, questa pioggia ci spegne

Non alzare la voce, fra', la strada ci sente

Son qui e respiro ancora questo smog

C'è cappa in questa camera, sembra una sala slot

Non mi guardo più allo specchio, non so più che faccia ho

Piuttosto che l’hip-hop avrei dovuto fare il rock

Perché questa vita è dope (dope)

Questa tipa è dope (dope)

La sua amica è dope

Parli e non connetto perché questa weeda è dope

Scum Gang, TR3YWAY, you don’t want it!

Supposed to be nice, I don’t joke at all

Shottie got a two, and it’s busting off

I got the pump and all, this shit jumping off

Look to a trip, turn 'em all

Thirty clips, extendos, nigga

Shooters all go off the wind blow, nigga

We don’t miss lil' nigga, you hit lil' nigga

Ride on God and my chick gon' get ya

One in your head, you in your bed

We in your crib, you X’d out

Two in your head, your boot in your bed

Don’t wanna touch this wet blouse

Talk to the feds, I call up cadet

I throw him a Sharpie, he wire your mouth

Always in depth, I go get home

I go in the trunk, get them TECs out

Touch down to NYC

Made it back from Italy

They bitches be feeling me

Bet they gonna remember me

Jump in my coupe

You already know it’s AMG

Back on my bullshit

Got a lot energy

I don’t care what they say

'Cause you know I’m dope

I been selling flow

Like in the 80's moving coke

Shorty said she like my swag and she like my flow

And tonight she would love to try my whoo, bitch

Son qui e respiro ancora questo smog

C'è cappa in questa camera, sembra una sala slot

Non mi guardo più allo specchio, non so più che faccia ho

Piuttosto che l’hip-hop avrei dovuto fare il rock

Perché questa vita è dope (dope)

Questa tipa è dope (dope)

La sua amica è dope

Parli e non connetto perché questa weeda è dope

So we gotta let 'em know what’s up

They already know what’s up

I am in the street pissing at one in the morning above clèr

I'm hanging around with rogues, whores and SerT faces

Only yellow gold around my neck because it is the color of wheat

For Italy an alien, I leave crop circles

I respect my people in Milan as well as down in Brooklyn

These whites are the Yankees, for them this flow is Putin

Cars from Germany, Italian fashion, Latin type

You fool with mine, your teeth fall out like fairy

Inside the pieces you are macho, only lies (only lies)

No you bro, you are good for Men and Women

Raw life, but with more advantages than against

God ignores me, but I have some K on the bill

No, I haven't gotten off yet, I speak slowly, I drive fast

An institution like the Church, when you see me cross yourself (amen)

This sun cooks us, this rain turns us off

Don't raise your voice, bro, the street hears us

I'm here and I'm still breathing this smog

There is hood in this room, it looks like a slot room

I don't look in the mirror anymore, I don't know what my face is anymore

Rather than hip-hop I should have done rock

Because this life is dope (dope)

This girl is dope (dope)

Her friend is dope

You speak and do not connect because this weeda is dope

Scum Gang, TR3YWAY, you don't want it!

Supposed to be nice, I don't joke at all

Shottie got a two, and it's busting off

I got the pump and all, this shit jumping off

Look to a trip, turn 'em all

Thirty clips, extendos, nigga

Shooters all go off the wind blow, nigga

We don't miss lil 'nigga, you hit lil' nigga

Ride on God and my chick gon 'get ya

One in your head, you in your bed

We in your crib, you X’d out

Two in your head, your boot in your bed

Don't wanna touch this wet blouse

Talk to the feds, I call up cadet

I throw him a Sharpie, he wire your mouth

Always in depth, I go get home

I go in the trunk, get them TECs out

Touch down to NYC

Made it back from Italy

They bitches be feeling me

Bet they gonna remember me

Jump in my coupe

You already know it's AMG

Back on my bullshit

Got a lot energy

I don't care what they say

'Cause you know I'm dope

I been selling flow

Like in the 80's moving coke

Shorty said she like my swag and she like my flow

And tonight she would love to try my whoo, bitch

I'm here and I'm still breathing this smog

There is hood in this room, it looks like a slot room

I don't look in the mirror anymore, I don't know what my face is anymore

Rather than hip-hop I should have done rock

Because this life is dope (dope)

This girl is dope (dope)

Her friend is dope

You speak and do not connect because this weeda is dope

So we gotta let 'em know what’s up

They already know what's up