[Lyrics for "Anfang" ("Beginning")]

[Intro: ?]
OG, OG and the Funk and the Vater
Ahahaha, haha, right?
'Til it goes boom
[?], bam-pow, [?]

[Part: OG Keemo]
It was the first Sunday night in a new city
He was sitting on the stairs with his dog
Pulled a cigarette out of his cap and asked if I had a light
And checks if my chain was expensive
He was about nineteen years old
Port-wine stains on his crow hands
He asked if I knew anyone from this area
And if I could give him my phone just for one quick call
I said: "You got my light already, you’re not getting any more items!"
He laughed and threw the BIC back to me
He said he's from the seventh Block, he'd walk with me for a bit
I sceptically looked at him, but I saw he had nothing sharp on him
Besides, he was too skinny for a robbery, so fuck it
He said to me that this here is his city
He knows every nig and every sluggy
And if I ever needed something, no matter if otler or weapons
I should just ask and not waste too much time (Okay)
He was funny, because he talked too much
He lit a blunt and asked invitingly: "You wanna hit?"
I said yes, he tolld me his name was Malik
His dad from Morocco, his mom from Mozambique
He fucked with Polo caps, raw physical violence and Marlboro Red
Afghan hash and French rap
He told me, at the moment he still lived with his mom and his bro in a high-rise
But that there was a soccer pro inside of him
But he quickly distracted from his childhood
I was seventeen with the same skin
But he looked almost ten years older than me
He pointed at the twelfth floor, white balcony
He said: "Just so you know where I live", his dog barked loudly
"His name’s Attila", he said enthusiastically and praised this doberman
Like he was his own son
But is interrupted by a hum from his Umbro socks (*humming*)
He bends down and pulls out a disposable phone
He says yes a couple times, looks at me and then says our location
Fuck, we're getting visitors, I'm too high for martial arts
And to the question about who's coming, I get nothing for an answer
I think to myself, now only cardio can save me
But just before I step out Malik waves to a black silhouette
With a build that I didn't quite expect
Tousled hair, maybe 1.68 tall
With every step I realise how I find him more harmless
"That's my bro", says Malik, "What's up? Why are you shaking like that?"
"If I wanted to take your shit I already would have by now!"
"That's Yasha, he only likes fat blunts, booze and Tipicos
You’re neighbors since he’s lived on the third, and now callm down!"
He was a strange guy with the eyes of a dead man
"Bro, what kind of grass is that?" was his opener
Someone once said his dad was an alcoholic
The rest of his fam was still in Herzegovina
Malik kept talking big about taking drugs and the high-rise life
Of satellite surveillance to dead birds
Of big plans, of ghosts and curiosities
Yasha nodded as if he knew, what he was talking about, yeah
He was funny too after a Hennessey or a blunt
I was sure, there was no one out there more fucked up than us right now
Malik said: "Fuck it, who is in for some business?"
Pulled out some wire and pointed to a Civic, yeah