You light up another cigarette and I, pour the wine
It's four o'clock in the morning
And it's starting to get light
Now I'm right where I want to be
Losing track of time
But I wish that it was still last night

When I leave, don't come crying at my grave
How many are sincere?
How many dramas, real hardships
How many false brothers?
When I was really in trouble
How many reached out to me?
Never put off till tomorrow
What you can do with one hand
Even back then, they envied me for a hash block
I'm hitchhiking on the road to Paradise
And only the Devil stops
Trappes cemetery, in a small group
Don't bring too much demon
We live between angels and demons
How many know me by name?
When I leave, tell my family that I love them
That my thing is solitude
That I find it hard to say "I love you"
When I leave
Tell my dealer he's out of a job
Funny character
No need for tributes
Tell my true friends that friendship lasts forever
That I was bad at math
Because when you love, you never count
Tell the guards that rap changed my air
That my pride is Morocco
And that I prefer to eat on the ground
No regrets, I lived fully
A starter on the field
That's ten haters talking on the bench
When I leave, tell my father that there's no use crying
Tell my daughter that her prayers will replace the letters
Tell my teachers I don't give a damn if I didn't get their diplomas
Tell the haters that this album will probably weigh ten tons
When I leave, pass the salam to Congo
Tell them we eat well there
Thank the Togo
Cameroon and Algeria, Canada, Djibouti
I might have only one regret
Not to see the audience of Mali again
I will leave with my head held high
My daughter, don't listen to people!
I have memories of Dakar
From some brothers from Abidjan
When I leave
The competition can come out of its hole
And only once buried
You can take its pulse
I won't be far
I will forever be in the hearts of the family
Of some devastated fans
Of some sisters from the Antilles
When I'm no longer here
Tell some brothers that they disappointed me
That I don't have a beautiful pen, just a damn experience!
Lived, the years pass and I see things getting worse
Lord, have mercy the day I leave
When I leave
Some false brothers will pretend to be disappointed
Want to ride with me
Before would have walked over me
Tell my fans that I'm crazy about them
That I was nothing without them
That life hurts, and there's no smoke without gunfire
Big up to Fred Musa, Pascal Cefran it's the same
Another anti-FN rap on your FM
When I leave, some bastards will make their condolences
Where were they when the bills were due?
Where were they when the Restos du Coeur served dad?
Where were they when the bailiffs took the living room chair?
Where were they when, with teary eyes, Mom lacked cash?
Were they there in solitary, with a desire to commit suicide?
The years pass, damn it, and I see things getting worse
Lord, have mercy the day I leave

Yeah, the day I leave
I won't take anything with me
No apartment, no jewelry, no car
I never rapped for that shit, anyway
And the real ones know it
Since my first album
When I leave
The only thing that's important to me
Is that I hope I'll have time to say
"Ashadu an lâ ilâha illa-llâh
Wa ashadu ana Muhammad rasûl allâh"
And I want to hear you sing, Fouiny Babe!
I want to hear you sing
Success generates enmities, Fouiny
It creates enemies
Your success turns against you!
What are you going to do, kill your success?
Would you rather not have succeeded?
It's not complicated, either you succeed and make some enemies
Or you miss your shot, and make some friends
It's a matter of choice.

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