Gen 2000 Lyrics English Translation by Cyril Kamer
2000s generation
We were stackin’ cash, but never posted that on our pages
‘Cause the Feds be watchin’—no invitations
I move quiet, keep it low—no declarations (Yeah)
I don’t wanna see no one or be seen
Hoodie on tight, face covered—ain’t for the drip, believe me
Squatting the spot, THC
Phone’s old, HTC
She’s a freak, etc.
They tried to press me, but I ain’t confessin’
Yo, find out where my block is—
Don’t talk ‘bout things you never witnessed
Don’t talk about money if you out here
Spendin’ at Shôko, and you got a kid to feed, man
So how you want respect?
You don’t got the values we carry in the set
Got a couple young ones—say the word, they’ll leave a dent
Dutch white girl, we pushin’ product, feelin’ like Jacob again
Hit the—, ordered the—, now they pissin’ themselves in their pants
Smokin’ like junkies in the stairwell, looks like a hippie’s camp
He thinks he’s a savage, but only off five tabs of trippy
I want it all, every last cent—I’m a money fiend, don’t pity
2000s generation
We were stackin’ cash, but never posted that on our pages
‘Cause the Feds be watchin’—no invitations
I move quiet, keep it low—no declarations (Yeah)
I don’t wanna see no one or be seen
Hoodie on tight, face covered—ain’t for the drip, believe me
She ain’t yours, she’s on the clock
Yeah, fools fall in love
But I’m too sharp to get caught
Yeah, smashed your girl
Then vanished like a magic shot
Yeah, she cry after
Gun sounds echo like we’re in Chi-Town
Yo, now your time’s up
Eh, stackin’ up bills, more money
Movin’ that weight, real money
Winnin’ with all my homies
Yeah, we got plugs where it’s sunny
Ain’t no one out here playin’ me
.47, Al Capone energy
2000s generation
We were stackin’ cash, but never posted that on our pages
‘Cause the Feds be watchin’—no invitations
I move quiet, keep it low—no declarations (Yeah)
I don’t wanna see no one or be seen
Hoodie on tight, face covered—ain’t for the drip, believe me
Squatting the spot, THC
Phone’s old, HTC
She’s a freak, etc.
They tried to press me, but I ain’t confessin’
Yo, find out where my block is—
Don’t talk ‘bout things you never witnessed
Don’t talk about money if you out here
Spendin’ at Shôko, and you got a kid to feed, man