Kralj Srbije - Juice

Kad ne bacam rime kriziram, ne znam za druge

Isti osećaj k’o kad nemaš lovu i pljuge

Novi Hiphopium a zvuči starije od Full Moona

Old School big poppa, rep boss, geto kruna

Ovo nije ego trip, ovo je samopouzdanje

I kad nemam sam bogat, ne proveravam stanje

Realizujem ideje, tvoj se zvučnik sada smeje

Ostvaruje ti želje, i dalje me žele (ha)

Za mene je sve stvar ove čvrste atmosfere

A ne puste, ne znam što se reperi na binu puste

Kako im uspe da reči izuste

Pocepane su im gilje, treba im šuster

Energija nikakva, treba im Booster

Ne vide, treba im luster

Jebene kučke, duvate mi dvadeset godina, ne dam vam mujsper

Ja sam majstor starog kova, kopirate mi mustre

Ma duvajte vujspre, dok repujem hoću ruke gore, sajfer

Ja sam old school lirički gangster, šta je?

Geto muzika za ulicu, tu će i da ostane

Sedi u kola, pusti glasno nek se svako okrene

Ovo je za mene i za ostale FU-ove

Ovo je za mračne ulice, za fejsbuk muške kurvice

Za geto guzice, za podzemne prolaze

Dane što dolaze, za dane koji su me doveli ovde

Za dreadlockse za ćelave vugle

Za svu hip-hop decu širom zemljine kugle

Za moju braću sa zida koji čekaju sekundu

Sa brzim vozom novu rundu

Laid back zid u hoodu

Trebali smo u biznis za sekundarne sirovine

Koliko boca je prazno, još da smo čupali šine

Sećam se kad sam u Beovozu od Franša fur’o u Zemun garažu

Čučao u šteku, pušio topinu i niko nije čuvao stražu

Samo voz, slušao War Zone

Dema i Dubi čekaju budni, ugovoren

Lupali smo srebro k’o konji

U boj moramo poć', četiri vagona za noć

To je jebena moć, svi smo pratili tok

Jer čovek nema ništa vrednije od slobode

Poštujem pravila, nemoj da mi iko spominje kodeks

When I’m not throwing rhymes I crisis, I don’t know about others

The same feeling as when you don't have money and spit

The new Hiphopium a sounds older than Full Moon

Old School big poppa, rap boss, ghetto crown

This is not an ego trip, this is self-confidence

And when I'm not rich, I don't check the situation

I'm realizing ideas, your speaker is laughing now

Makes your wishes come true, they still want me (ha)

For me, it’s all a matter of this solid atmosphere

And don't let go, I don't know what rappers play on stage

How they managed to say the words

Their guillotines are torn, they need a shoemaker

No energy, they need a Booster

They don't see, they need a chandelier

Fucking bitches, you've been blowing me for twenty years, I won't give you a mujsper

I'm an old blacksmith, you're copying my patterns

Blow it, while I rap, I want my hands up, Saifer

I'm an old school lyric gangster, what is it?

Ghetto music for the street, it will stay there

Sit in the car, let everyone turn around loudly

This is for me and for other FUs

This is for the dark streets, for the Facebook of a male whore

For ghetto asses, for underground passages

The days to come, for the days that brought me here

For dreadlocks for bald coals

For all hip-hop kids around the globe

For my brothers off the wall waiting a second

With a fast train a new round

Laid back wall in hood

We needed a business for secondary raw materials

How many bottles are empty, even if we broke the rails

I remember when I was in Beovoz from Franša fur’o to Zemun garage

He squatted in a barn, smoked hot water and no one kept watch

Just a train, listening to the War Zone

Dema and Dubi are waiting awake, agreed

We beat the silver like horses

We have to go to battle, four wagons a night

It's fucking power, we all followed the flow

Because man has nothing more valuable than freedom

I follow the rules, don't let anyone mention the code to me