Alt Jeg Har Set - Gilli, Murro

For mange ofre, for mange brødre bag tremmer

Der' for mange chopper, for mange pakker dabanja

Alt for mange, der markerer, min bror

Shorta de kigger, de ser, min bror

Åbne øjne, observer, min bror

De trykker som damer med veer, min bror

Hvorfor er det kun grå dage i beton?

Hvor vi kan tælle brødre på én hånd

Fuck radiostationen, tøm lommen

Mentaliteten heromkring er bare så'n

Prøver at holde mig til rap, men det gør mig ikk' riger'

Folk trykker deres egen ven for papir

Holder troen til Gud stærk, men Djævlen han siger

Hvorfor noget, fuck it, showet

Så længe kilogrammen kommer op i båden

Kan ikk' bruge jeres falsk rap til noget

Når vinden står stille, og verden ikk' mer' snurrer rundt

Jeg ser tiden flyve forbi mig, men smerten den føles så tung

For den her verden er blevet ond, men jeg står i min grund

Holder mine følelser indelukket, jeg' blevet stum

Af alt jeg har set nu

Af alt der er sket nu

Lad vær' at sammenlign' mig, for de lyver, når de snakker

Selv din yndlingsrapper ville fortryde, hvis han var her

Ude hver dag hvor de skyder, og de blaffer

Tænk det hele igennem, for dem der skyder her, de rammer

Ingen frakobling, hver dag;

samme ting

Det' en stram flok ting;

ren og skær forretning

Helt tætpakket, udholdende, venter lange nætter for de kolde

Peak-hættetrøje udenom min langærmet t-shirt;

pres så kulden kan ikk' komme ind

Har ikk' tid til at slappe af, flere penge er kun drama

Venner stikker venner og det ender med, de dræber, gør det kun for para

Alt for mange, der bliver skudt herude, fuldt magasin så det slut herude

Djævlen taler til dem sammen med sprut herude

Derfor regler bliver brudt herude

Forholder mig udenfor, kugler flyver uden stop

Projektiler fra rustne biler, bare hold dit hoved op

Vi vil ha' Hugo Boss og Lacoste

Prada YSL på min top

Para, flouse nede i min lom', sørger jeg for de blæser maroc

Sørger jeg for de blæser maroc

Når vinden står stille, og verden ikk' mer' snurrer rundt

Jeg ser tiden flyve forbi mig, men smerten den føles så tung

For den her verden er blevet ond, men jeg står i min grund

Holder mine følelser indelukket, jeg' blevet stum

Af alt jeg har set nu

Af alt der er sket nu, yeah

Ungdoms oprør (oprør)

Vi er alle ung entreprenør

Hvis vi holder sammen, kan vi godt ramm'

Hold-hold sammen, godt ramme

Hvis vi holder sammen, kan vi godt ramme

Ungdommen burde holde sammen

Folkrt burde holde sammen (sammen, sammen…)

Too many victims, too many brothers behind bars

There 'too many choppers, too many packages dabanja

Too many that mark, my brother

Shorta they look, they see, my brother

Open eyes, observe, my brother

They press like ladies with labor pains, my brother

Why are it only gray days in concrete?

Where we can count brothers on one hand

Fuck the radio station, empty your pocket

The mentality around this is just like that

Trying to stick to rap, but it does not make me 'rich'

People print their own friend for paper

Keeps faith in God strong, but the Devil he says

Why something, fuck it, the show

As long as the kilogram comes up in the boat

Can 't use your fake rap for anything

When the wind is still, and the world no longer 'spins' around

I see time fly past me, but the pain it feels so heavy

For this world has become evil, but I stand in my ground

Keeping my emotions confined, I've become dumb

Of everything I've seen now

Of everything that has happened now

Do not 'compare' me, for they lie when they speak

Even your favorite rapper would regret it if he was here

Out every day where they shoot and they hitchhike

Think it all through, for those who shoot here, they hit

No disconnection, every day;

same thing

It's a tight bunch of things;

sheer business

Completely packed, enduring, long nights await the cold

Peak hoodie around my long-sleeved t-shirt;

pressure so that the cold can not enter

Do not have time to relax, more money is just drama

Friends stab friends and it ends up they kill, do it only for para

Too many people being shot out here, full magazine so it's out here

The devil talks to them along with booze out here

That's why rules are being broken out here

Keeping me outside, bullets flying non-stop

Projectiles from rusty cars, just hold your head up

We want Hugo Boss and Lacoste

Prada YSL on my top

Para, flouse down in my pocket ', I make sure they blow morocco

I make sure they blow morocco

When the wind is still, and the world no longer 'spins' around

I see time fly past me, but the pain it feels so heavy

For this world has become evil, but I stand in my ground

Keeping my emotions confined, I've become dumb

Of everything I've seen now

Of everything that has happened now, yeah

Youth rebellion (rebellion)

We are all young entrepreneurs

If we stick together, we can hit well '

Hold-hold together, good frame

If we stick together, we can hit well

The youth should stick together

Folkrt should stick together (together, together…)