Lyrics

The name is Waffenschmidt, don’t get caught up in his shit,
Pull up with a joint, middle finger, then he dips.
Raised in the gutter, got the hustle in his vein,
Never gave a fuck, now he’s dancing in the rain.

Dirty kicks, hoodie on, always in a zone,
Talkin’ all that trash, better watch your tone.
He don’t smile much, but he laughs at the law,
Got your girl on his lap while he’s breaking the raw.

Ash on his hoodie, smoke clouds in the night,
Runnin’ from the cops, but he still feels right.
Cash in a sock, dreams in a spliff,
Life’s a dirty bitch, but he rides that drift.



Waffenschmidt, du weißt, wer kommt,
Mask on face, und er macht kein Song.
Big blunt burnin’, Scheiß auf die Cops,
Einer gegen alle, doch er bleibt on top.

Gib kein Fick, er macht sein Ding,
Straßenkind, doch mit König-Instinkt.
Du redest viel, doch er redet mit Blick –
Wenn er kommt, Bruder, better run quick.


He don’t do talkin’, he just light it and dip,
In the back of the Benz with a gun on his hip.
Hood life taught him, never trust no snitch,
Cash in the bag, got the Glock with a switch.

He the type pull up, make the whole block freeze,
Smokin’ on loud, got you fall to your knees.
Eyes real low, but he see real clear,
Fake ones fold when the real ones near.

Ain’t no love in the trap, just pain and the grind,
He don’t care ’bout fame, just money and time.
If you owe him dough, better pay that quick,
‘Cause Waffenschmidt wild and his hands real quick.