Gli amici miei Emis Killa & Jake La Furia lyrics english

Gli amici miei Emis Killa & Jake La Furia lyrics english

[Text of “My friends” ft. Lazza]

[Intro]
Mob

[Verse 1: Emis Killa]
My friends are not your friends
Red eyes, white face like in a polaroid
If you talk about my friends be careful, between ‘, fuck you do, they know who you are
Time someday and they come to your house like Amazon Prime
My friends live hardcore, they have the north pole in their pockets
But rather than being tied up, they kill themselves like Juice Wrld

My friends
They don’t listen to metal and I miss the radio
They play the metal detector, they can’t enter the stadium
I’m never alone, it doesn’t matter where, when or how
For any question, my friends say: “Available”
More than a gang is a gang, like Cosa Nostra
Mio between doesn’t take “no” for an answer, leaves you a bullet in the mail (Rr-ra)

[Pre-chorus: Emis Killa]
My friends come home at 6 am
Fuck the party with your friends, I rest with my friends
If you fuck with my friends they leave you on the ground without fair play
They don’t play sports, but my friends move balls like NBA

[Chorus: Jake La Furia]
My friends don’t even know who the fuck you are
My friends, in for a year and out in 6
I spend them with my friends I fuck
with my friends
In the area with my friends
I’m dying with my friends my friends

[Verse 2: Lazza]
My friends Throw
in the cops, like My
Friends Your friends are not mine, they are not Killa nor Jake
They are 6, no, they don’t throw it if it’s not top
No, not the they stick if it’s not porn
No, they don’t drive it if it’s not sport
My friends

leave and send home 3 G’s by mail
Your friends pose as Cosa Nostra We
fuck them, red rose
Drop them in peace, a few words racket faces
Between, they have little and nothing in their brains, a lot of shit Full Metal Jacket They
empty the ATM, between it looks like talc but, it is not
Lame in the teeth between Sandokan, Saint Laurent dressed as they
were taken from Zara bro, yeah
With that face you look like Telespalla Bob They
walk into your house and go away with your canvas on your shoulder bro

[Pre-chorus: Emis Killa]
My friends come home at 6
Fuck the party with yours, I stay with my friends
If you fuck with my friends they leave you on the ground without fair play
They don’t play sports, but my friends move balls NBA type

[Chorus: Jake La Furia]
My friends don’t even know who the fuck you are
My friends, in for a year and out in 6
I spend them with my friends I fuck
with my friends
In the area with my friends
I die there with my friends

[Verse 3: Jake La Furia]
My friends are cursed ignorant
That when they hit the street, the mother cries for the others
They make the dumb years and then they let their hands go again
Call and they bring your stuff home, like the Indians of Glovo
And you don’t talk coke on the phone, not with me, not with my friends
Unless I have 3310, brother, like in ’96

Bread and jail, old fashioned, 20 circles on a Carrera
With praying hands tattoos, like South America
They speak only with gestures and codes, like an esoteric sect
With knives out of the stadium, friar, every fucking Sunday
With Off Nike’s White, China, Shanghai
Crackhouse, spoons, bamba all night

[Pre-chorus: Emis Killa]
My friends come home at 6
Fuck the party with yours, I stay with my friends
If you fuck with my friends they leave you on the ground without fair play
They don’t play sports, but my friends move balls NBA type

[Chorus: Jake La Furia]
My friends don’t even know who the fuck you are
My friends, in for a year and out in 6
I spend them with my friends I fuck
with my friends
In the area with my friends
I die there with my friends

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