The Chronicles of the 75
Hey, Akhi

I don't have Moliere's pen, I'm stubborn like Kountakité
I often lack tact, they tell me, "you piss me off, who are you?"
Me, I'm A.D African determined
Aware that our parents are getting old and that soon it's over
I move to the front row even if they tell me you don't belong
And if you want to make it you have to hustle like Tabata cash
You don't have your cash? Out here we don't want beggars
Huh? And I won't hide that you're ruining the vibe
Me, I have the hunger of a banabana
Banana eater yeah, but I'm going to shock you because I'm not ordinary
I have a lot of phases, peace in Paris is rare
I arrive in neglected shoes to leave in a Panamera
I wish my account was as large as my appetite
Look at my retina, I've been determined since the teat
Paranoid, because we are in the country of adultery
Forced to act proud, you love her instead of telling her you had to shut up
You have a flair when you sense a nice ass (huh)
Being married how many girls have you hit on, as long as he doesn't care
Poor our kids, they must have lost their mental age
If I have to tell the truth, I speak, I don't care, I don't lie
9th zone akhi the chic ghettos shocked me
So when you talk about leaving without hesitation, I'm ok
Even if I love my street wanting to put carpet
I have to leave because my situation worries me
Alcohol watches over the faith and liver of the little brothers
At home, a stroke of Colgate and hop their breath is redone
Unemployment has made you pale, you cover it up with powder
Your life is unbalanced, it's an obese person on a beam
I have the rejecting appearance, Muslim and dark always clean
Never high, I throw stories always founded
They tell me A.D land on earth, everyone lives their life
Everything is doomed to failure, clean clothes, one day get dirty

Lots of things to say ladies and gentlemen please approach
This is a text among many others before the Apogee
Before the Apogee
Yes
When it comes to success
Pff, hmm
There's a lot to say Akhi look

Success doesn't please, misery has more charm
Don't cry if you're srhab or you're reuf abuse it
That's the price no more terracotta house
On the ground, I pray then I cry to avoid war, crisis
I take a step back on the planet to admire this mirage
Poor Iraq there's Obama and we know this miracle is fake
Descendant of slave, know Antillean that you're African
And that the notion of beauty we taught you only one, that of Europe,
So these weaves or relaxers so that in an interview the boss doesn't stare at you
Me, I plan to fuck everything up they told me it's scary
Here, it's every man for himself for your skin, I have no sorrow
Yes, I am a krel, no I am not a chabin
No, I don't have a Merc', I walk on foot sheltered by fir trees
No, I don't put a Christmas tree at Christmas or a satin suit
I don't have dreamy hair, cute cut, chestnut color

As for Satan, he often makes me foot
I get duped especially when I need dough
I blow out the candles, fan the flames, I am bitter
But I'm this hook that attracts women
We're tired of living, but we're afraid of dying
Hope has been dead for a long time like for a junkie's father
We love human warmth, yes we're afraid of freezing
So given the weather in Paris I advise your sister to leave (move)
Young drug addicts take coke so early (han)
Such a hot time Satan boxes our ribs
Saturday night even the ambulance drivers are high
The cops are speeding see young people in a two-person crash
It enriches the clamp Cambell
A whole team of racists-ra, I don't insist it will remain as such
9th zone it's a cocktail of dirty race just like you don't like
It's so weird that the commissioner can be called Demba
Maybe we've seen each other again, we don't even know what we're eating
Cocaine, cola, mac dega 40 years all, we suffer
Marlich if your fingers are swollen due to your thumbs up
Present in the blues, no more blur, I offer you a couscous
I don't want to die a weird death by their but no
Neither by their machine, nor by their HIV 1N1
And to break through I will never insult my mother like Slim Shady
Damn what I hated the fashion of slim, I dedicate
My text to the prisoners who hide their phone when the guards arrive
It reminds me that this life is not a cinematic scene
To sell our cds, we would have gone through big traffics
Determined, I was a ball of nerves at the ultrasound
Raised by belt strokes they don't call me chichi
I'm the chico you find on the ground around midnight at Place Clichy

The sea scooters are far away (very, very)
Closer to the motocrottes, in debt up to the neck
Like a nullar who starts in auto prod
Tell me who you hang out with, I'll tell you who you are
But me, I walk with shit and I don't want to get used to it
Lots of things to say ladies and gentlemen please approach
This is a text among many others before the Apogee
Before the Apogee
Adam's, on the mic for my people

VIEW ORIGINAL LYRICS