[Chorus: Mr. Polska]
It's, It's, It's Prada, I enter the club here (Skrrrt)
Black tracksuit, bla-bla-black tracksuit
Ban-bandit, I enter the club here
Black tracksuit, bla-bla-black tracksuit

[Verse 1: Mr. Polska]
She does not reflect when she sees yellow plates
This seven that's driving up is mine, not dad's
I grew up in mud and swamp
Nowadays, covered in gold and money
Gucci bandana, in the club like Rambo
Suicide doors, Murciélago
White Air Forces, I wear them once
OG Kush, smoke flies through the roof
I enter a Żabka in this Burberry coat
Cash is fuel, we're speeding up
Your wifе doesn't drink Coca-Cola
10k, I can sprinkle with champagne

[Chorus: Mr. Polska]
It's, It's, It's Prada, I еnter the club here (Skrrrt)
Black tracksuit, bla-bla-black tracksuit
Ban-bandit, I enter the club here
Black tracksuit, bla-bla-black tracksuit
[Verse 2: Kabe]
Black, black tracksuit (tracksuit)
In the left pocket, there's jazz (jazz)
In the right pocket I've got cash (cash)
Be-beng, be-beng beng
Ok, Belle fête (Belle fête), Pomper (Pomper)
Survet' (Survet'), Sportif (Sportif)
Paris (Paris), Amsterdam (Woo)
Ecoutez, si tu cherches le Bon Dieu
I'm entering the club, I'm smoking a joint
Give me cash, not a record (gold)
GCBW hits again, what's up?
Dark businesses like Gotham City
Around me only bandits, look
My friends drunk, be-beng
My dreams are being fulfilled by Bombay Gin
Money is falling from the sky (money)

[Chorus: Mr. Polska]
It's, It's, It's Prada, I enter the club here (Skrrrt)
Black tracksuit, bla-bla-black tracksuit
Ban-bandit, I enter the club here
Black tracksuit, bla-bla-black tracksuit

[Verse 3: Kizo]
Black tracksuit, it's not mourning
If goods are sniffed, then in a tracksuit, homie
Mercedes parked by itself, shopping, illness
I shop in boutiques, not Smyk, homie
Tracksuit, because of the Slav squat
SMS, that a series of money is waiting
Expensive dresscode, you see it from afar
Roll this joint, don't procrastinate
I burst into the club dressed comfortably
Because jeans squeeze my balls
She's alone, would want to be next to me
But after the first line, she's looking crippled
[Chorus: Mr. Polska]
It's, It's, It's Prada, I enter the club here (Skrrrt)
Black tracksuit, bla-bla-black tracksuit
Ban-bandit, I enter the club here
Black tracksuit, bla-bla-black tracksuit