Youss'? Médine on the line
Hey big guy, I don't know where you are with your projects but try to call me back as soon as possible
With James, we have something for you to listen to

Yeah! I know where my discomfort comes from
A man with vertigo living on the edge of a cliff, that's what I am
Stuck in my paradoxes, that's what I live
Thunderous silences, that's what I scream, that's what I wrote
I gave a part of my youth to R.A.P
I depicted the French ghetto from my window
I blackened so much paper that I leave a cemetery of dead leaves
First on rap long before Skyrock
I was in this thing, there was no money
I only had my raw talent and brothers under lock and key
They took us for brutes, we took them for wimps
We had a goal, rhymes and guns
The industry fell, my talent survived
My sincerity remains, the liars have disappeared
I have a public that supports me, otherwise I would be dead
Since then, if I had to do it again, all my records are gold

You listen to my music, you know me
When you cross me in the street, you recognize me
Everything is there, even my darkest sides
My music resembles me like my shadow, it's a part of my life

The show business has never loved me
I spent my career breaking down closed doors
Set aside, they did everything to gag my poetry
Charles Aznavour perceived it because he was a wounded poet
I loved rap so much, I thought it was vital
Today I take its pulse on a hospital bed
An art in agony, without soul and without poetry
There are only rappers left, where have the MC's gone?
Even if it shocks, I have to tell the truth
Rappers keep our little brothers in mediocrity
Sometimes they pervert them, sometimes they dumb them down
I've seen too many grieving mothers, to glorify the illicit
Maybe it's not me who does conscious rap
Maybe they do unconscious rap
Who cares about this uprooted youth
Who finds its bearings in music or cinema

They talk about drugs, weapons, crimes, violence (gang)
But they never talk about the consequences

Stories that end badly, I could tell you about them
I didn't wait for the rain to get wet
I've seen buddies leave on a stretcher
Some to the hospital, many to the cemetery
We have some photos left, covered in dust
No one leaves too soon, little brother
I never traded my art for a handful of dollars
I'll never go under the desk, I'd rather go on the pool table
I can't rap to please them, tell them what they want to hear
If you see me on one knee, it's because they amputated my leg
My jacket is not reversible, I'm not Manuel Valls
I'm often targeted, but I don't give in to threats
I'm still fighting the same fight, yet the years go by
I'm so suburban, I made a movie about it
I've always faced up, some have turned their backs on me
Alone I made a place for myself, no one gave it to me
In ghetto community centers I did my first concerts
By gathering drops of water, I made rivers
I forced myself to be violent, to avoid being it
If my writings are intense, it's because there are words in every letter
I still rap my wounds because I'm not healed yet
Ali is still called Kery
If you meet Youssoupha, I want you to tell him
That I too am a leader of the league
Tell him that on the microphone I fear no one
I'm so king they call me Michael Kery Jackson
I was going for a 16, I'm going to do 68
I'm inspired I have 2 left, it's amazing how fast it goes
My love for this music catches up with me
I'm still waiting for the day I'll stop rapping

A part of my life, my life, my life, my life
A part of my life, my life, my life, my life
A part of my life, my life, my life, my life
A part of my life, my life, my life, my life

Actually, actually, I need a chorus for this song
And to have a live audience
And so the engineer who is behind has placed microphones and we would like to record you

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