The foxiness, yeah

It's like a disease
The booze heals the wounds of our actions
See what life inflicts on us
We will never change, even with age
(Eh) and never changed, my brother

I take my time when it talks about money, when it talks about bills
We are alone, we wait for happiness to really sparkle us
I have pain that awakens, every awakening, as breakfast
I see the mother who gets angry in front of my glass, it makes me shiver
I didn't have time for others, I thought about making my music in ball
Thank God, two years later, I rest on 300K cash
A cigarette, a flash, my wife gets angry, I can't manage myself, I try to do better
The next day, I start again like a vice that no one can manage
Not digested, too torn, and I think more than others
I know pains, I see them crazy there when they put all their faults
I saw them promise things, the word is easy to shoot down
I have my bro, he's my bulletproof, I have the recipe to make it work, damn

Like a warrior, I want to win my battles to soften family
The heart sealed, feelings are fatal, so understand that we are empty
I can't avoid, I'm too drained, how to vibrate in front of them?
I serve myself food, I don't see myself as a guest who eats on them
I know values and principles, everything in music, I invest better
Don't think it's easy to live from it, I have more desire, everything becomes boring
Well yeah, his mother, all the time the same thoughts that come back
I buy, I buy back hoping to save the family from shit
I drank too much, now, I'm wasted, I see trouble
And I've driven so many nails, I'm going crazy
You spend for your girl, you owe money
And don't think we're finished, we know what we're doing (we forget nothing)

We wanted to do good, but
Life is bad luck, and it's tragic
And give me the goods, damn
Classic, it's Paris, it's magical
I smoke pasta, it's the principle
Anthracite lungs, and I think hard
Eaten by fatigue, who should I trust?
They take everything for granted in front of me

Oh, I have trouble controlling my impulses
They are there at birth, but not at execution
I was selling the local coke, we didn't do discounts
I had a bastard past, but there are darker pasts
I have worries in my head
So, there's whiskey in my drink
If I hit the milli, I'm remade
But it fails because of a girl or a traitor
And I lose it when I'm drunk, Lebara chip, I'm at the office
I smoke a cigarette, and I gulp down the beer
They take me for a jerk, I think it's because of my nerve
I have a few grams of shit and a little coke in my pants
Every day, a new problem, every day, a new rhyme
Every day, a new flow, a new poem
We lead marginal lives, it's not bohemian
Second round walk, Diakité Cohen
I always dreamed of being the king, a bit like Nolwenn
I was premeditating rackets when it was Christmas
I felt a little better with full pockets
Always a thought for the brothers who are serving big sentences
And the GPG, it's a gang, it's not a Boys Band
We can keep you busy for an hour like in Phone Game
I'm a big fox, I hang out with the dogs from the break
You can sit next to me, just don't steal my place
And to remake myself, I need shit and a knife
Always proud of myself, I can look at myself in the mirror
We've already sold snow to buy ice creams
And I don't drop the face, I drop the masks

We wanted to do good, but
Life is bad luck, and it's tragic
And give me the goods, damn
Classic, it's Paris, it's magical
I smoke pasta, it's the principle
Anthracite lungs, and I think hard
Eaten by fatigue, who should I trust?
They take everything for granted, in front of me
I was sitting in the snow, tail-dé in the bag
Every day, I was messing up
I only thought about smoking weed, drinking packs of Heinko
And the old guys from the neighborhood who were hitting the snow
Now, I'm hardening, worries that chain on worries
We know we can all succeed in our music projects unless
We cross paths with people who make our career that we built
A big check, a big check, who take the devil in their life
We wanted to do good, but
Life is bad luck, and it's tragic
And give me the goods, damn
Classic, it's Paris, it's magical
I smoke pasta, it's the principle
Anthracite lungs, and I think hard
Eaten by fatigue, who should I trust?
They take everything for granted, in front of me

Yonea Willy Willy Yonea business
Hey
Zoubangbang

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