I put my skin on the table, I'm in the bowels
Of the beast, and I slash this century, and I spit a fan
Of dry words, in braille, I scratch my films for the blind
It's grub for infirm souls,
My truth is for those who want it
Take reality full in the face, and come lose yourself in my dark ideas
Come smell this shit, the stench of broken streets
When the sky pisses on us and comes to wash the alcoholic asphalt
I talk about love, I'm just an interpreter for the strong
If you're claustrophobic, stupid, narrow-minded, if you have a fragile face, I hit
My gloomy images will burn your cornea
If you like calm, the silence of death,
The sounds that let the sun through
I'm not your drug, now you're informed

I write another chapter of my existence, I press the accelerator
I've distanced myself from the game, I come back to slash rappers
I hit insistently, I did this to have and to be
I insult them in bursts as if I had Tourette's syndrome
My paradise flown over by a drone, I walk under a scarlet sky
Burned by this musical current, I'm on an electric throne
Lyrical icon, hat trick
A human bomb, I had a fuse for an umbilical cord
I live in the ass of a cyclone, this biz and me, it's Goliath and David
We just pull big hits, fill empty boxes
I don't advocate violence, except when the fridge gives you a cold
It stinks of insolence, you wonder why it talks so much about the street
Death gave me a call in August, I was on voicemail
The Devil believes in us, I pray to Heaven, it burns
That's why I rhyme, my ego takes steroids
When you hesitate it's the street that slits your throat, it's real, no heroic fantasy
Life slits my throat, I won't leave my skin there, it's a promise
I suffocate in the air of the times, talent is my only stock in trade
There's no Dukan here, the sound is heavy, full of cholesterol
You know where the wolves are, the lambs know their role
Rap gave me the ring, often on the verge of divorce
I fall into the trap, with every sound that forces me to come back
They tell me, "Bors you're the best, you're not in your place, bring us some thunder"
I reply, "I'm where I want to be, and besides, what do you care?"
Sorry if you're a fan, I rap for myself, there's nothing selfish
I could shock the street, even by sampling the chorus of The Choristers
Profane music, I'm a purist
Sir of rap without baking soda, I made the past futuristic
Musical with matte skin, not in your trips of "who has the biggest balls?"
I'm going through the era where, rapping the revolt, has become old school
Tell me who your pagan music rolls for
I'm legendary like the "A" umlaut, and Kenzy in a red Hawaiian shirt
No crossing of the desert, I was just doing my cardio
Tell the thirty-somethings they can turn the radio back on
It's for the teens who think, the mic smokers who puff
Those who wouldn't have their say if I had put on a condom
It's you I'm targeting
If the world prefers dead rappers, hate me as long as possible
The mic is tested, to overshadow you, there's no one better than me
The text is long, I get younger with each record, I even have kids older than me
I go too high in their esteem, I violate the airspace
Me, I have the heart color Palestine, the Israeli Uzi
Delinquent music, reinforced concrete, vinyls and crossfaders
For the burnt heads à la Ghost Rider
I've already started another century, I confess
God forgive me, the street, it waits for my album like Scarface 2
I resurrect their dead letters, they all pull a funeral face
I shoot them, I've been silent as a grave for a long time
L.I.N.O, Bors, no matter the alias, we're going to kill
It's the length of the leash against the thickness of the bundle
You can look for the exit, they say I made a pact with the Devil
52 measures and my rap proves to you that God exists, I was blessed before the impact

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