The day rises over my suburb
I'm cold, yet it's not winter
What could I do, for God's sake
I don't have a dime and I don't look
Serious, serious

I'm a hooligan among many others
I live not far from La Défense
I look dirty, it's not my fault
My council flat, it's not Byzantium
My mate, my mate

At fourteen, my father
Got me a job at the factory
Two days later, I ran away
Apparently, I'm an unworthy son, damn it

One evening, in a deserted street
I stole a Honda 500
From a son of an honest bourgeois
With it, I speed at 200
Yeah, it's cool, it's cool

My friend Pierro, crashed
On the highway, on a rainy day
Sometimes, I hear him laughing
I'm sure he's in Paradise
That jerk, that jerk

And me, I continue my cinema
At the foot of these shabby buildings
I'd like to die before I get ugly
I'd like to end up, like you my old Gavroche

I'm a peripheral hooligan
I'm fed up with this town
France is a crappy suburb
As my friend Mohamed says
To the cops, to the cops

The day rises over my suburb
I'm cold, yet it's not winter
It's funny, the asphalt is all blue
There's my bike burning on the ground
Good God, good God, oh good God
Good God, oh my God, good God
Oh good God, oh good God

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