Mata - Gombao 33

Gombao 33 whore

Gombao 33 brothers squad, rap for homies
And not for the cunts, she pours dust on the countertop and Mati bursts in
It burns when your old lady comes up with topics for us
Bullshit check M.A.T and Mata's folks
So pretend freestyle raps on concrete
From Młociny to Kabaty, give it to me, give it to me
Because I can't get up from the couch, the Elephant is flying, the Kęka is flying
Always shit stupid crooks in the jaw
We share the bucket and I forgot about the Municipal Police
Fuck in their jaws too (already was)
Dick in the mouth (let it be)
Coming back to the point, we share the bucket
You are tense and my squad is pigeons
Because his heart is soft, he shits on you from above
He's spreading his wings and flying around this town like fucked up

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Gombao33 little devils on the shoulders, just like breweries on the flanks
We have these crap on the pages, we have shops on our necks
And when japa is dart, it's until morning in parks
We have an instinct in it, this is Uber Eats style
Cause we'll get you and we're proud (and it's not free, mate)
My hot tub, I don't think yours is
You wanna check this kung fu? Please join in
When we stand in a circle on Marszałkowska
My squad is pigeons, that's a pizde
Because you will probably find us in a Chinese restaurant
It's been 100 days, oh homie check me out
We stick to a piece of Mata like Gracie

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Gombao, gombao 33, and a-a-all ok
Batorwygi Adamo Szczepano, hello check this impaired flow, man
Go go three-three (dude fuck)
It's hard to stand, it's almost six o'clock on my watch, I'm not going to the top, I'm just jogging
The fat is thirsty, so pour him the Coke
I'm supposed to get on the bit, then I get on the stool
(fuck dude, it's not funny anymore, you can't laugh at it)
The fat man is thirsty, so pour him the Coke
I have to get on the beat, then I get on the stool
Will you jump me? It's not hard, mate
I'm five feet eight

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Flanks, flanks, gombao 33 and one is fucking uglier than the other
I have a whore of pimples, I'm cute but generally I try to be nice
And what the fuck are you staring at, you'd better make me a sandwich
With ham, tomato, cheese, and butter
Check me out and this honesty in every return
Because that's how you do it in a mood
And although I would really like to hurt you
I don't fuck your mother boy
Because I'm not your fucking mailman