[Verse 1]
Get out of the slippers
Into these shoes that only fit me
I know, you do not like to let me go, but
You also have to understand that your dad needs to make music
Between Foodora bags and beer bottles
Just let it happen
I mean, just puff a bit Weed with the homies
Putting rhymes on a beat - as I said, making music
Because nobody does it like dad
Because nobody was made here, like dad
They try with a mask, just like dad
But they see no sun, because they are only in the shadow of dad
I'm going out there and playing in front of thousands of people
I woke up, but I did not stopped dreaming yet
And I know you are worried because out there is the devil
But soon I’ll come home with the loot, as always
Counting the gold and platinum awards
I'm that rapper with the radio songs
Playing in the big halls, I do not care if you come
Your mother gets the card for free - what do you think?
Hehe, I'm from the dirty district
And yes, I live in the bacon belt now
There are losers and winners
But no matter how this life plays, you are always a Berliner
Like me!