Hopsalaprod

Renews, D, bit

Often, nerves speak louder than reason
I sing this millennium and I go off in a burst of metaphors on the waves
I'm from corners where angels disappear under shrouds
Nothing changes, my raps are still caresses, punches in the face
I eat the mic', outcast song, the prod' saturates
It's for the germs, Marianne in a strap-on
Live from the police station, screwing the youth like a cougar woman
Disciplinary district, coke color, shit and brown sugar
The crazies, I have to lift, to the hard blows, I subscribe
I found Renaud's gun in the sewers of the top albums
Stuck between Trust's rage and Brassens' guitar
Because insubordination is lap-dancing full time
It raps and fear comes back to work
When I see the Arab Spring and the flowers it gave (tch tch)
Up to the scale of the biz', there's nothing striking anymore
They aim at me as if I had slapped BHL with a copy of "Mein Kampf"
When's the mess, there's too much love without vaseline
I have defeat in my sights, hidden in the neighboring tower
Seed of a terrorist, I come to irritate them until no more hour
I strip the truth naked I make attacks on modesty

I shock the screen, I convey my ideas without brake
I make movies for the blind where we don't die at the end
I'm not here to save the widow, the orphan, I smell the scent of powder
I confess on a big sound, we break the law
I shock the screen, I convey my ideas without brake
I make movies for the blind where we don't die at the end
I'm not here to save the widow, the orphan, I smell the scent of powder
I had trouble spitting out my frustration, now I have a gun

I want to avenge my skin far from MCs who beg
My potato comes from Gorée via the Mississippi
Me, I have the heart, it's a Panamera engine
And I replay the end of Scarface sober with better cameras
From the jungle like Malcolm, I spot the disguised beasts
My hatred was born under X, back to the Pyramids of Giza
Worries rain down, too much pressure in the room
They pour Guerlain's essence on the blaze of racial tensions
It's starting to get far, I still don't see the Promised Land
We are still slaves
Tell the world, I take care of the brothers, the homies
In my phases, a France that ignites is taking shape
A third finger pointed, it's my tag in sign language
I commit with the tip of my lips, my destiny I must pilot
I'm a leader who refuses to take responsibility
I have the sensitivity of a trigger, my wounds have style
The sure warriors are HS, despair is a fuel
Here, abortions are done by shooting storks
Since we prefer reassuring lies to truths that hit
When traders speculate by blowing up their nasal septum
They screw my intelligence by exposing Chazal's poison

I shock the screen, I convey my ideas without brake
I make movies for the blind where we don't die at the end
I'm not here to save the widow, the orphan, I smell the scent of powder
I confess on a big sound, we break the law
I shock the screen, I convey my ideas without brake
I make movies for the blind where we don't die at the end
I'm not here to save the widow, the orphan, I smell the scent of powder
I had trouble spitting out my frustration, now I have a gun

I had a date with History but that bitch didn't show up
So let me make my plea in honor of the avenues
War is an art, and victory a science
If the Mac is the Devil, the Apple logo,
It's the forbidden fruit of the tree of knowledge
The kalashs bark their race, the van passes, around a Bourbon
They trace the new order with the square and compass
The dogs of the break enter tense, looking for the Messiah
Know that the hung negroes all have something of Tennessee
Proses, a caliber, you need enemies like me
I'm not a conscious rapper, free, I'm stiff, I rap in a semi-coma
Who says nothing consents, look at our marks
I should warn them, being sincere in the fake is being dead for real
Shoot close, not on the ground, no superficial wound
I give the material for my unofficial biography
With the street, I have hooked atoms, so hard to stay straight
We learn from our defeats and falls
Success is a virtuous whore who fucks when she feels like it
Life is a killer with an enticing silhouette (Tch tch, tch tch)
Lost on the chessboard, we don't go to the top without the basics
You can do anything with a checkbook except stop bullets

I shock the screen, I convey my ideas without brake
I make movies for the blind where we don't die at the end
I'm not here to save the widow, the orphan, I smell the scent of powder
I confess on a big sound, we break the law
I shock the screen, I convey my ideas without brake
I make movies for the blind where we don't die at the end
I'm not here to save the widow, the orphan, I smell the scent of powder
I had trouble spitting out my frustration, now I have a gun

Give me a gun
I found Renaud's gun, the violence is going to groove
Give me a gun
I found Renaud's gun, the violence is going to groove

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