Alone in your misery, alone in your troubles
Alone in your clothes, your friends are zombies
Often in the most broken corners of central Paris
Wading in the cold then simply chatting about the permit
The days repeat themselves, there's nothing fantastic
Smiling only when it talks about chicks
Jb, Coca, Heineken, bottle of Desperados
Kid, you're 16? Wow, you're desperate!
I don't like the street, it's her who loves me, she hurts me
A bus stop is tattooed on my shoulder blade
I feel like I'm falling from a height and making a splash
The street fucks us in turn, she's probably polygamous
You need to think, you should go home
But you prefer the street, just to become a bit like the rapper who sings "All Eyes on me"
You deserted school, now you talk about prison
You're heading towards the car crash, its showers and its arm locks
It gets excited then insults for drugs
I think it's high time to unclog the street with Destop, STOP!
You're wasting your time
And everything that's stupid you operate in
Gims, you're going to lose your teeth
But no worries, I have my pair of gloves

The day rises and you go out without knowing where to go
But it doesn't matter as long as you have your weed to inhale
Now you're growing up, the street fits you like a glove
You're going in circles then wasting your time drinking, smoking all night (night night)
The same unanswered questions about your lifestyle
Warming the bench of the neighborhoods quickly becomes a real motto
In addition, you're growing up, the street fits you like a glove
But all this is enough, because it hurts us to see you waste your whole life

You're there you say what "it breaks my balls"
You prefer Darfur where they pick up bullets?
Maska gets by
While you sell your shit to your brothers
You become a rapist he screwed you
On the ground you're there you sleep standing there
Wasting time strangles you while you grow up
Selling weed at 60 tell me what do you say?
The street tricked you, you thought she loved you a lot
When you'll be in trouble it's not her who will help you!
For you it's a bed she suffocates you in her sheets
Routine has AIDS you throw yourself into her arms!

The struggle, the anger, the gossips, the assholes
"Small salaries are useless, bibi is better so fuck his mother"
3pm, you're there, 4pm, you're there, "But move!" that's what these bastards say
You do nothing but drink packs and packs of Bacardi

The day rises and you go out without knowing where to go
But it doesn't matter as long as you have your weed to inhale
Now you're growing up, the street fits you like a glove
You're going in circles then wasting your time drinking, smoking all night (night night)
The same unanswered questions about your lifestyle
Warming the bench of the neighborhoods quickly becomes a real motto
In addition, you're growing up, the street fits you like a glove
But all this is enough, because it hurts us to see you waste your whole life

Brother, do you see yourself struggling all your life in Beriz
Running after money
You even forget to read your Hadiths
Hey, what's happening to you?
She put me in a big mess
My son will surely have a stepmother
Wake me up maybe I'm dreaming
And if you have a little joint I'll stay
Look, it's for the guys from the hood (hey)
Who know what to adore and what to hate (hum!)
Damn self-questioning
Always the routine with or without my Sexion (hum!)
Don't compare me to them no it's not the same
There are even jobs where I don't go out of laziness
What scares me is that Paris is dying
In this low world you will not see equal parts
Here it's the hassle alas
What I hurt in the face of the routine of the homeless
God bless the mother she manages
While you're there in the hood instead of the walls (yes)
Like any drug, routine has its side effect
The hatred of my soldiers contained in a container
Like any drug, routine has its side effect
I know what I'm talking about, I know these dirty evenings partying all night

The day rises and you go out without knowing where to go
But it doesn't matter as long as you have your weed to inhale
Now you're growing up, the street fits you like a glove
You're going in circles then wasting your time drinking, smoking all night (night night)
The same unanswered questions about your lifestyle
Warming the bench of the neighborhoods quickly becomes a real motto
In addition, you're growing up, the street fits you like a glove
But all this is enough, because it hurts us to see you waste your whole life

In the hood all your time escapes
It's been 10 years since you changed your clothes
You live the same things every day
Repeating the same gestures is what you play
In the hood all your time escapes
It's been 10 years since you changed your clothes
You live the same things every day
Repeating the same gestures is what you play
In the hood all your time escapes
It's been 10 years since you changed your clothes
You live the same things every day
Repeating the same gestures is what you play
In the hood all your time escapes
It's been 10 years since you changed your clothes
You live the same things every day
Repeating the same gestures is what you play

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