No bastard wrote to me even though Fat Joe became my brother-in-law
Now I see that the sky is grey, that the butt of my Puskha is chrome
I'm going to dethrone the fakes, they're going to go from Féfé to broke
Words from Yougata yeah yeah I promise you that
I'm going to do it like you wanted, fuck the blue I want purple
Like Aboubakar in the closet it's going to sacrifice chicken
This is for Zraven and Bimbim, not forgetting Souley
I think the human being is made of alcohol so much that it made me drunk
Without touching them you have to sink them, if you touch a ton you have to sell it
Oh believe me the blood will flow, your brothers will be hooded down at your place
A bit like nothing's happening, and then you'll get smoked like a Syrian
In the city of (?) Welcome to my zen9a
No mazel tov, no bsahtek, no it's shooting dry
On your wedding day it's premeditating your funeral
No it's not paparazzi hiding in the tall grass
There are too many snitches too many H3iner and also the Octris Who are watching you
When we move from there, it's not about Solaar
Even khapta I stand straight it's the height for a drunkard
If you owe me money don't give me a whole scenario
On an instru teh Hades, big up to all the zonards
This is for my brothers the prisoners, and fuck the prosecutor this fat lard
Roll a zeh we restart, guilty like Raddad Omar
Life is like a wall, you're the nail or you're the hammer
My best friend's name is Jean, his last name is Neymar
The prosecutor was harsh, our mothers suffered at the trunk
The father perseveres because you have to stay proud

With me to pilot the mic no need to break the ignition
I just need to get close to it for all my rage to emanate
With me to pilot the mic no need to break the ignition
Just seeing the mother in the visiting room makes the heart hurt (the heart hurts)

Hey my friend
You know the saying in the street?
"If what you have to say is not more beautiful than silence
Well shut your mouth"

No it's not paparazzi hiding in the tall grass
There are too many snitches too many 3eineurs and (?) Who are watching you
When we move from there, it's not about Solaar
Even khapta I stand straight it's the height for a drunkard
No it's not paparazzi hiding in the tall grass
There are too many snitches too many 3eineurs and (?) Who are watching you
When we move from there, it's not about Solaar
Even khapta I stand straight it's the height for a drunkard

Yeah my face
No matter how much you feed, house, launder
in the end, they're going to eat
They'll want to leave with the plate and the cutlery
And they'll tell you "it wasn't good" these sons of bitches
Yougataga my face
Brrrah

VIEW ORIGINAL LYRICS