Bam, from the intro you love it
It's the return of the least productive rap group
So, it starts with a slap to knock your teeth out
Then it ends with a Koenigsbeer vent
So, bring your membership card we're going to dismember you
For those who want free nastiness right from the entrance
Fingers in the socket we are trendy guys
We ride on the axles we are crazy
What's new? Nothing at all
I gave up everything for the seventh art
You see the scenario, dude I rub shoulders with celebrities
Ah okay, you're in the movies?
Yeah, I'm in the movies
Gaumont Pathé I'm at the entrance and I tear the tickets

Tell Skread I'm releasing my street on vinyl soon (okay)
At SACEM I still have a slate of ten thousand (shit)
Fuck rap I'm at university (at university?)
Yeah, worse than a pet shop there's a lot of pussy (meow)
What's new?

Locked up at home, the shutters drawn
I'm trying to write songs
But I have the inspiration of a first grader's essay
I can't wait to quit, to find a job to pay the bills
Raise unbearable kids, grow old, die, get buried

Bibadabim bibadaboum
They are cool
Bibadabim bibadabadaboum
Too cool

And it goes eeny, meeny, miny, moe
You move your bling-bling in polymer clay
We are too cool you know it, come on pass me the mic
Physical of a junkie equals lack of swag kid
It's for the worst, the waste, the marginal
All those who accumulate the deadly sins
We've been too cool since the days of the Jacky Show
Kenshiro technique and I wreck your vital organs
Keep rapping, keep having overdraft fees
Don't play the star if you write your own bio
I don't exchange your Breitling for one of my Casio
Like your bimbo at the campsite we come to wet the jersey
You have no supporters you always play behind closed doors
Hard to digest like when you don't have a chiclet
Amigo, my Spanish is not up to par
But I know the definition of the word "classico"

Bibadabim bibadaboum
They are cool
Bibadabim bibadabadaboum
Too cool

And it goes bibadabim bibadaboum
They are cool
Bibadabim bibadabadaboum
Too cool

It's one for the money, two for the show business
I no longer have my head on my shoulders, Louis XVI
I don't need a psychiatrist but a psy8
Alone, my Skai's sofa is the limit
Eh eh, you want to prevent me from touching happiness
But, but, but what can you do except give the finger?
You criticize but you imitate me, ah the thief
You pumped me so much it's me who touches your copyright
I created a lightning buzz, Pixar
I make punchlines, they make redneck jokes, Bigard
Rockers no longer smash guitars
It's the crisis
Where are the real artists?
Where are the real artists?
I make the difference as if I was racist
I come to finger black and white as if I was a pianist
I don't give a fuck about your shitty unifying songs
We're going to throw you from the Eiffel Tower as if you were Taïg Chris

We shave for free, we rake in the winnings
Your rap is like the Job Center, you need to update yourself
For now pass the booze
So I can Jack Daniel's
The flow that strikes, Gon and Kirua
Robots, ninjas
Rap and pizzas
Cowabunga
We release a track every six months
Because we're too far ahead
We're afraid you won't follow us

Bibadabim bibadaboum
They are cool
Bibadabim bibadabadaboum
Too cool

And it goes bibadabim bibadaboum
They are cool
Bibadabim bibadabadaboum
Too cool

And now we keep the suspense
For nothing

Too cool

VIEW ORIGINAL LYRICS