Cooler As Ekke

Jy dink jy's cooler as ekke, want jy rook Yves Saint Laurent sigarette
Jy dink jy's cooler as ekke, want jy't 'n tattoo van 'n slang op jou tette.
Jy dink jy's cooler as ek, want jy't 'n plakkaat van Led Zeppelin bo jou bed
Jy dink jy's cooler as ek, want jy's elke jaar by die J&B Met.

Jy's ou nuus, ek kom met rou beats
Jy lê en wag, ek gan soek iets
Jy's ice tea, ek's witblits
Jy's lite bier, ek's spirits
Jy's die ou met die new fresh look
Ek's die ou met die Pep Stores broek
Ek watch jou, jy koekeloer oukes
jy forward nog Vernon Koekemoer jokes
Ek's fantasties, jy's spasties
Ek vat an poppies, jy raak an klein kids
Jy's Tim Voster, ek's Chris Edwards
Jy's innie bosse, ek rol innie vet shit
Jy's boring soos liedjies ommie kampvuur
my styl slick sneak suutjies soos 'n vampier
jou styl kak sag soos 'n pink marshmallow
meisies skree vir net “one night in parow”

Jy dink jy's cooler as ekke, want jy hang saam met models en ek hang saam met slette
Jy dink jy's cooler as ekke, want ek's 'n rapper en jy sing in falsette
Jy dink jy's cooler as ek, want ek ry op met die bus en jy vlieg op met 'n jet
Jy dink jy's cooler as ek, want jy ry in 'n Peugeot twee nul ses

Jy rol met 'n selfoon in jou pen
Ek rol nog met 'n 3310
My styl gooi sexy korrek
Jy dra nog fokken Mr Price Red
As ek instap skrikkie hele fokken bar
Jy kry nog fokken geld by jou ma
Ek los die hele jol papnat
As jy instap begin die hele jollie pad vat
ek's Amerika, jys Irak
ek bomb jou lat die kak slap spat
Ek's 'n Bic pen, jy's 'n Mont Blanc
Jy loop rond met fokken skuim op jou mond-rand
Ek's original jy's gecopy
Ek's 'n flash drive jy's 'n floppy
Jy maak of jy alles het ma jy's fake
Jack Parow bra ek lewe soos n straatmeit

Jy dink jy's cooler as ekke, want jy drink by Ku De Ta en ek drink by De Dekke
Jy dink jy's cooler as ekke, want jy's die gentleman, bra eksie prette
Jy dink jy's cooler as ek, want ek hou vakansie in Hartenbos en jy hou vakansie in Quebec
Jy dink jy's cooler as ek, omdat jy die nuwe issue van One Small Seed het

Jack Parow bra ek's n poes woes
Jy eet caviar en couscous
Ek drink Klipdrif, jy drink Peroni
Jy't vriende in Swede, ek het vriende in Benoni
Ek koop al my klere by die local Pep Stores save more
Jy koop al jou fokken klere by a store
Jy dra net fokken Polo shirts
Shame, jy luister na die Dirty Skirts
My naam's Parow, dik heavy uitgeskollie
Jy lyk soos Jeremy de Tollie
Jack Parow, die life van die party
Jy dra net fokken Issey Miyake
Jy's too cool for school, eks mos kief
Ek's grasshopper, jys Lacoste sportief
Jy lat die koek flop, ek lat die huis rys
Jou meisie het 'n foto van my piel op haar Space Case

Jack Parow in your mother's house

You think you're cooler than me, because you smoke Yves Saint Laurent cigarettes
You think you're cooler than me, because you have a tattoo of a snake on your tits
You think you're cooler than me, because you have a poster of Led Zeppelin above your bed
You think you're cooler than me, because every year you're at the J&B met

You're old news, I come with raw beats
You lay and wait, I go seek something
You're iced tea, I'm Witblits
You're light beer, I'm spirits
You're the guy with the fresh new look
I'm the guy with the Pep Stores pants
I watch you, you stare at blokes
You still forward Vernon Koekemoer jokes
I'm fantastic, you're spastic
I get with dolls, you touch little kids
You're Tim Voster, I'm Chris Edwards
You're in the bushes, I roll in the fat shit
You're boring like songs around the campfire
My style's slick sneak softly like a vampire
Your style's shit, soft like a marshmallow
Girls scream for just "one night in Parow"

You think you're cooler than me, because you hang with models and I hang with sluts
You think you're cooler than me, because I'm a rapper and you sing in falsetto
You think you're cooler than me, because I ride on the bus and you fly on a jet
You think you're cooler than me, because you drive a Peugeot 206

You roll with a cellphone in your pen
I still roll with a 3310
My style throws sexy correct
You still fucking wear Mr Price Red
When I walk in the whole fucking bar jumps
You still get fucking money from your mum
I leave the whole party drenched
When you walk in, the whole party begins to hit the road
I'm America, you're Iraq
I bomb you let the shit limp splash
I'm a Bic pen, you're a Mont Blanc
You walk around with fucking foam around your mouth
I'm original, you're copied
I'm a flash drive, you're a floppy
You make out you have it all but you're fake
Jack Parow bra, I live like a streetmaid

You think you're cooler than me, because you drink at Ku De Ta and I drink at De Dekke
You think you're cooler than me, because you're the gentleman, bra, I'm the fun
You think you're cooler than me, because I vacation in Hartenbos and you vacation in Quebec
You think you're cooler than me, because you have the new issue of One Small Seed

Jack Parow bra I'm poes-woes
You eat caviar and I eat couscous
I drink Klipdrift, you drink Peroni
You have friends in Sweden, I have friends in Benoni
I buy all my clothes at the local Pep Stores "Save More"
You buy all your fucking clothes at a store
You only wear fucking polo shirts
Shame you listen to the Dirty Skirts
My name's Parow, thick heavy outskilled
You look like Jeremy de Tollie
Jack Parow, the life of the party
You only wear fucking Issey Miyake
You're too cool for school, I'm obviously awesome
I'm Grasshoppers, you're La Coq Sportif
You let the cake flop, I make the house rise
Your girl has a photo of my dick on her pencil case

You think you're cooler than me, because you smoke Yves Saint Laurent cigarettes
You think you're cooler than me, because you have a tattoo of a snake on your tits
You think you're cooler than me, because you have a poster of Led Zeppelin above your bed
You think you're cooler than me, because you're every year at the J&B met