Paroles de la chanson Jurgen Kropper par Bad Boy Chiller Crew

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Paroles de la chanson Jurgen Kropper par Bad Boy Chiller Crew

Everything proper
Jürgen Klopper
Big mac whopper
Royston Cropper
We got the live
Have you seen Clive?
It's twenty past five
He's off his rocker
Came with nought-point-eight of the dizz
Might have three-point-five of the proper, chopper
Football sticker swapper
Used to nick fifty P out your locker

Realer, realer
Ain't got to be a big drug dealer

I'm on the street like Rita
We run the thing like Julius Cesar
Wheel up, wheel up
Bounce to the beat, don't seize up
Hands in the air with your keys up
Can't see me, John Cena

Hopped in, popped out
Twenty for the watch now
Bossed out
Never should of dropped out
Tryna live my best life
Baddy she from uptown
Catch me on that main stage
I just come and shutdown
Then I mix that drink with the drink
Got me sinkin' them in
Bada boom, bada bing

Raise the roof when I'm in
Got that club on box
Got that shit locked off
Know that whip trip tron
I like my shit tip top
Last night was a write off, oh my days
Five-six-eight and that five-star flake
Mum said, "When you gonna act your age?"
We run shit, pull up in that blacked-out Range
We paid
Told the boys, "Tonight there's no violence
Yo, let bygones be bygones"
Little baddy at the bar I got my eyes on
VIP booths, she's mine if I want

Wheeler (Ayy), dealer (Ayy)
What's good, geezer? (Jheeze)
Five-star food in a Fila

Pull up with Bad Boy Chiller in a Beamer
We got Tina (Yeah), Sheila (Yeah)
Selina (Yeah), Trina (Yeah)
Don't want to be a Justin Bieber
I was in the club by the side of the speaker
Raver, skanker
Sarah, Samantha
I was in the street like Blanka
Ten missed calls and I still didn't answer (No way)
What's good, gangster?
Disco (Ayy) dancer (Ayy)
I call it weed, my Mum calls it ganja
Tour-bus life, call me a bus wanker

Realer, realer
Ain't got to be a big drug dealer
I'm on the street like Rita

We run the thing like Julius Cesar
Wheel up, wheel up
Bounce to the beat, don't seize up
Hands in the air with your keys up
Can't see me, John Cena

I'm not a gangster, I'm a charva
New whip, new grip, new clarva
I'm not a gangster, I'm a charva
I put the money in the bag, then I scarper
Bradford to Cardiff, who came to party?
Bad Boy Chillers make the crowd go barmy
B-Barmy army
Eighth of the charlie
Three days straight, I'm Starvin' Marvin

Runnin' from the police, so I hopped the bus
I just drank ten cans and I'm off my nut

Said I'd drink ten more, but the shops are shut
It's about time that I stopped the drugs
But I can't 'cause every time the party starts
I just pull up with the boys in a chorey car
Woke up still drunk and I can't be arsed
Quick brew, then it's pints down the Toby Carv'

Realer, realer
Ain't got to be a big drug dealer
I'm on the street like Rita
We run the thing like Julius Cesar
Wheel up, wheel up
Bounce to the beat, don't seize up
Hands in the air with your keys up
Can't see me, John Cena
Realer, realer
Ain't got to be a big drug dealer
I'm on the street like Rita

We run the thing like Julius Cesar
Wheel up, wheel up
Bounce to the beat, don't seize up
Hands in the air with your keys up
Can't see me, John Cena

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