C8- Matala Profiili

C8 - Matala Profiili

Editointi Vito&Sergei
Leikkaus Vito
Käsikirjotus C8
Kuvaajat Vito&Sergei
Bitti Youngflash
Äänitys Youngflash
Mixaus Youngflash
Masterointi Tähtinen
Sanoitus ja sovitus C8

ISO KIITOS kaikille projektissa mukana olleille🙏 Tuttuun tapaan mistään ei tingitty paitsi että aseisiin, oikeisiin ei ollut lupia eikä varaa joten jouduimme lainaamaan naapurista rikkinäistä kolme viis seiska replica rulla sytytintä. Muuten meno on edelleen aitoa. Eikä tarvi lavasteita, ainakaan vielä🤜🤛

C8:sille kysymykset ja muut ehdotukset voi laittaa viestillä ja näillä nimimerkeillä tavoitat somesta ✍️
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Translated Lyrics(Big Thanks to Chill The Pill):

C8 - Low Profile

[Verse 1]

Many people ask me why I wear my gloves
and cover my tattoos with a collared shirt
Got internal and visible wounds
I don’t play, don’t pose as some bad boy
nor do I follow the masses; I’m unlike them
I write only when the beat is playin’
Stories of my past life
Stacks of money, casinos
Always wanted to be something big
Show me the right way
Whole Finland, just a place to me
Winter or summer, I lack the sleep
Got to grind, fire burns down deep
Poured down teardrops they made a flood
Cannot grieve, cannot stop
Worried mind, that’s why I’m numb
Lots of bad shit happened to me
I numb those memories to this day
Days these go past quicker still
You stay in place as my thing goes on
I can tell you, you’ll feel it when
It’s windy at the top and the top will change
Am I UG if I sit in a Mercedes 63 AMG?

[Chorus 1]

Low profile, only my tires
Automatic, only my guns
Ups and downs in tinfoil bags
Stuffed are sacks and cash in my hands
(x 2)

[Verse 2]

Who’s the got the most cash in town?
Reality is far too rare amongst rappers
Things went down, holes in my alibis
Teeth have ground and cracked in raves
Naughty girls been tied in beds
Perspired, madames on crystals
Months go by, don’t care about profits
You come over wearing tight clotes
Tired of confused girls on speed
Always high, bad, badder, baddie
Good mood, it didn’t drop
All mine, I owe no one
From a garage to a platinum hit
Not gonna convert my rhymes to funds
Some peoples’ lives are like billiard:
Begins in colours but ends in eight
Sad, eyes closed on the highway
One life left without a restart
Sliding cars in to a parking slot
Without a license, at times getting caught
200 in speedometer, venom in drugtests
Blue lights in my rear-view mirror
Past the reds I slide like Elvis
Adrenaline, alive by surprise


[Chorus 2]

Low profile, only my tires
Automatic, only my guns
Ups and downs in tinfoil bags
Stuffed are sacks and cash in my hands
(x 2)