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Babangida – Don't say a word

[Verse 1]

I’am not a star
And I never said that I’m fucking glorious
My rap will never sell
But that doesn't stop me from dick-twisting all your business
And I’m mouth-fucking your rap-game

Cause rap is like politics
Leftists and rightists don't have a shit to share
We've got one enemy and it’s capitalism

To make it simple, let’s call
That lackeys of capital - kikes
They totally sold their conscience
No wonder they pleasantly burr in Germany
And got hooked noses

«Rap army», bitch, those kikes are definitely from da streetz
However migration-homos are no better then local gays
Singers wearing nose disguises and peyes

And shaking bucks on camera
Like negroes they show gang sings
They are all gangsters, no fucking doubt
Or fucking battle emcees
Both, all of them show pathos
Trying to find out what who's rap is more dangerous for children's psyches
But the fact is they just want some cash
Rap attracts them, like bordello attracts whores
Like “Cartel” attracts Capa, like “ground work” attracts wrestlers
Like trowel attracts freemasons
Rap has a lot of matzo selling masters
I would start a mass terror
And I would smash fucking face with crowbar
To any fucking face-seller

But I wont say another word
Cause I am shadow player
Disguised under mask
Call me Fantomas, “bro”,
You fucking faggot

[Chorus]

They told me
«Don’t say a word about
Jews and faggots
Just do good for masses
And you will be payed»

But, dude, I’m a grim troll
And I don’t give a fuck about ya all

[Verse2]

I don’t need to write disses
Nobody can diss you like you do it yourself
Big-nosed emcees, now give salutes to aunt Sarah
And to grandfather Moshe, and maybe
They will send you some cash for promotion

And then you will be very true like Misha Krupin
You will suck Titomir’s dick
And trick five towns
Alexander Gordon will be proud of your rap
Or, for example, like Schokk you will be selling drugs in your songs
Screaming how fucking cool you are
Or like smartass Oxxxymiron,
Who’s like Anatoly Wasserman
While every other of you is only Semen.

Your style is petty, your rhymes are fucking bullshit, however
You are pretty at sucking jewish cock, dooshes

Even Victor Geviksman
When he wanted fame, he started singing about “real life”

I have nothing against kikes,
Yids, you're making me laugh so hard
That i don't even need weed
Cause when I turn on your tracks I giggle so fucking good

You’re ridiculously arrogant, like Zab Judah
But in real life you just are scared boys
Your are pimps in your songs, you got rings and fur clothing
But all of this is fake, like your jewish jokes
That you call fucking punch-lines
Dude, close me, I've got nothing more to say, biiiaatch