Ok, ok, Mister Yougataga, Still Fresh
(Nabz, nigga, what's up?) What's goin' on, negro
(Hasta la muerte) seven, five
19th, 20th, there will be no negotiation

It's going too fast, she wants us to love each other
Love in the sequential box
Sometimes we cheat and the sums rise
I want to be rich, not famous
I accelerate, Jack on my lips
They will never reach the level
No competition, I lift them up

When she's drunk, she thinks of me
She wants to count my SACEM
She wants to travel first class, leave France
But she's not there when it bleeds
And sometimes, I want everything without working
Run away, tour Santa Fe
He's dead, Tony, don't play the mafia
You don't even deserve a bullet, I'll slap you
Yeah, I'll eat you like couscous mafé
I'll give you three shots, I'm straight like Mbappé

She loves me too much, she's traumatized
Fendi on her dress, there's rum to drink
She knows men, that's why she chose me
If she talks too much nois-chi, I'll leave her at Porte de Choisy

They act like bandits, never seen a slab
Hachek 75, here everything is for sale
From the machete to the small trigger
Coca leaf, cowhide bag
She comes from the islands or she comes from Brazil
Yeah, throw away the ce-pu, the phone is buzzing
Mafioso, you know us, soy peligroso
Fougères 20th, I grew up in the zoo

And you know, there won't be a nice big boss
The OPJ recognizes me
In the evening, I smoke my money (let's go)
Only pesos, I know the doses
I make my loves

She loves me too much, she's traumatized
Fendi on her dress, there's rum to drink
She knows men, that's why she chose me
If she talks too much nois-chi, I'll leave her at Porte de Choisy

(Oh, Mathilda)
(Oh, Mathilda)
(Oh, Mathilda)
(Oh, Mathilda)

It breaks a lot on the back and I'm going to invest in sugar
I want to lead the bella vida, I want my villa in the south
S.Pri Noir, Still Fresh, redheads, blondes, and brunettes
My darling, you're as fresh as a cop car burning
Fasten your seatbelt, adjust the mirror
You're just a memory, you're like the metro
Twenty years for a butt, everything was wrong at seven
I dreamed of taking off, traveling by jet
I want to make money, I don't care about fame
The rap game is a mess, Mister You is the lighter
Like Gérard, I'll sting them, if there's trouble I'm broliqué
Big up, if there's Bouef B, no need to argue

She loves me too much, she's traumatized
Fendi on her dress, there's rum to drink
She knows men, that's why she chose me
If she talks too much nois-chi, I'll leave her at Porte de Choisy

I've screwed too many crickets
I dreamed of ending up rich
The street is not complicated
You play the big match, you get screwed, yeah
Cousin, we are involved
The ne-zo, she's being watched
No time to explain
I'm in my ghetto melody
My ghetto melody
My ghetto melody

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