Jack Parow’s back for another fokken piss rain Keep your eyes open or jy mag my fokken mis kyk Take you baby for a chips and fucking fish date I blow up the jol like I’m made of blerrie biskruit Almal is like fokkit Parow is just great Meestal so slick jy sou sweer hy’s mince mate Die fokken woorde van die straat hoek renegade So high enengy I pis fokken energade I’m here to rap not make fokken movies I’m so next level my groupies have groupies So what you gonna do when you moederfokken boat sails All these rappers hanging on Jack Parow’s coattails I’m buying entjies with my piggy bank cents Moved back to my mom cause I can’t pay my rent Playing real life Risk conquering country for country One for one untill the next one wants me
Uh, die fokken Bellville shit Uh, laat jou boude skud Uh, jy fokken hou van dit Uh, fokken holy shit (x2)
Yo Parow moederfokker here with the round two fight Ek is wound too tight I’m bound to bite Shit sounds just right Spoeg kak kak-tight So luister mooi en fokken walk towards the white light Die rapper uit die bosse langs die N1 highway Almal fokken laaik my nou dat ek die mic kry By the way there is no where to hide away Ek spoeg fokken yster jou kak en fokken mayday Bomb long for long en longdrop bombs Kom om en om met fok hom songs Fok wie’s die jong fokken he’s vol gom So pop my fokken CD in jou CD ROM Yo, ek is fokken fly like Batman Raps so siek en moet heeltyd gaan vir ‘n CAT scan Quick vinnig hardloop to the Jack man Raps so tight you could swear I’m a black man
Uh, die fokken Bellville shit Uh, laat jou boude skud Uh, jy fokken hou van dit Uh, fokken holy shit (x2)
Ek wens jy was myne Ek wens jy was myne Ek wens jy was myne myne vanaand (x3)
Ek wens jy was myne Ek wens jy was myn.... Ag nee jissis fok man lasse Check I grew up in a fokken kak plek Raised on pap and fokken WWF Called kak kommin en kak zef Kak pyl kak hos fokof jy is kak drek Change in my pockets head full of jokes ho Sundays use to take my girl to the Spur for a Coke float No money for kaas and mush op my schnitzel No money for steak or cheese in our schnitzel What’s that called I think Cordon bleh We rolled courdroy pants and gelled up hair Stone Cold shirts and orange bomber jackets Fake walkmans and Pick ‘n Pay packets I come from a town where nobody’s fokken from A little bit of money and poof they are gone But I’m Bellville bru CY till I die So come down to Bellville and fokken see why
Uh, die fokken Bellville shit Uh, laat jou boude skud Uh, jy fokken hou van dit Fokken holy shit Uh, die fokken Bellville shit Uh, laat jou boude skud Uh, jy fokken hou van dit Fokken holy shitTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
