Top Songs By Kollegah
Credits
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Kollegah
Songwriter
Johnny Illstrument
Composer
Fade
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Johnny Illstrument
Producer
Fade
Producer
Lyrics
Weightliftin' (ja) 'til we shape-shiftin' (ja)
John Gottis in Bugattis, lane switchin' (ooh)
From the land of the Gothic age
No zombie from Chernobyl but a toxic male (tja)
Fuck what you say, I'm not everybody's darling
Like your crack-addicted mom getting gangbang-fucked at parties
Fans stalk me, in my trunk I fragmented that body
Or they just want a picture with my phantom-black Bugatti
Comin' back from bloodbath, my brother got his shoes red
Use the doormat, I don't wanna see that floor wet
Boss back, Phantom all-black, Grim Reaper (yeah)
Better watch your mouth (Shh), lip reader (yeah)
I'm with my crew playin' golf
While you keep waitin' for doomsday like new-age folks
Never lose control, I keep it Ukraine-cold
Always winnin' in the long run like Usain Bolt
Never back down (nein, nein), I rather pull the MAC out
Put you on flat ground like a smackdown (drr)
Old lady, eyewitness blacks out
As she sees your brain explode with a splash sound
Standin' on my balcony, lightin' up my cigar with a bankroll
I be throwin' stacks on the people, they mistakin' it for hailstones
Let 'em fly high, high in the sky, big bulletproof boss 'til I die
I be throwin' stacks on the people, they mistakin' it for hailstones
You heard it in the news, there's a German makin' moves
The words I fill my verses with are worth a mill' or two
Think I'm merciful to you like a daddy to his sons?
No, I'm like Jason, puttin' a machete through your lungs
You already fooled me once (tzah), this time we gon' manage it
Big crimes with the savages, sick rides in my garages
Spit fire like dragons, got thick ice on my hands and wrists
Like I had a fistfight with no bandages
C.B.A., even snakes end in disease today, these gon' break
Bones stickin' out the flesh like a T-bone steak (tze)
Suits made in Italy (Ah)
I am with 'Ndrangheta Dons in Sicily (yeah)
And their names remain a mystery, yeah
Cold-blue eyes behind Gucci shades (Shades)
Movin' weight (weight) like a Beluga whale (whale)
All those double agents, they try to snitch on me
But I'm ahead of the snakes, Medusa face
Standin' on my balcony, lightin' up my cigar with a bankroll
I be throwin' stacks on the people, they mistakin' it for hailstones
Let 'em fly high, high in the sky, big bulletproof boss 'til I die
I be throwin' stacks on the people, they mistakin' it for hailstones
Writer(s): Felix Blume, Nis Leander Karstens, Jonathan Kiunke
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