(Skary takes care of the BPM) ok

Smoking sativa, it's a mess in my head
Four civilians in a cap, you go
Under the Campbell clan in my head

Like the earth alternates its seasons
Cartier glasses four seasons
I'm on my fourth song
I drove him crazy, the sound engineer
Album every off-season
I never missed my sessions
Producer like Luc Besson
The neighborhood, it's losing its reasons

Wash the lemon, the civ' in Citroën
The Cîroc siphoned off deuspi like Phil Foden
A Cali frozen joint on the California coast
I'm with Kalif Hardcore, it writes hard in the Cayenne

Ah, and there you have it, we've become aliens
Suit cut like the Sicilian mafia
I stopped yawning, need the Italian sports car
At our place it's square, we love it when it's 3aynan

Ah, palapa-papapa, palapa-papapa (when it's 3aynan)
Palapa-papapa, palapa-papapa (need the Italian sports car)
Ah, palapa-papapa, palapa-papapa (when it's 3aynan)
Palapa-papapa, palapa-papapa (need the Italian sports car)
It details olives, it 3ayen the rims of the car
Head in the stars in the 747 Boeing

Don't worry, there's some in the cabeza, we need mapesa
I just wanted a gold record, how many times have I dreamed of that?
I need Tokyo or Patricia
Or both
That I think a little, in fact I tell myself, "neither of the two", ok
Blue ocean, under blue potion
The whites of shit, not R, it lacks fire

I'm at Jemaa el-Fnaa with Jamel Debbouze
(?) It's hella hot, he burned my thumb
I'm in the 6.3, in the Maldives in a spa
Don't compare the R1 and the Vespa

Ah, and there you have it, we've become aliens
Suit cut like the Sicilian mafia
I stopped yawning, need the Italian sports car
At our place it's square, we love it when it's 3aynan

Ah, palapa-papapa, palapa-papapa (when it's 3aynan)
Palapa-papapa, palapa-papapa (need the Italian sports car)
Ah, palapa-papapa, palapa-papapa (when it's 3aynan)
Palapa-papapa, palapa-papapa (need the Italian sports car)
It details olives, it 3ayen the rims of the car
Head in the stars in the 747 Boeing

I only smoke fermented, RM marshmallow
In the background 2, 3 roundabouts of the apple
Tchin-tchin-tchin, it smokes yellow
Bah-bah-bah-bah, the quad resonates
That it concretes, I mix with Lipton
I smoke a V2, villa towards (?)
It puts 100K in Bitcoin
It s'enboubou, it smokes, it shakes
Fly over Bali in a helicopter
But hey, Mathu', Gérard Perrigaud
And a Royal (?) and White Widow
Cric-cric-cric-cric, it closes the curtains

Smoking sativa, it's a mess in my head
Four civilians in a cap, you go
Under the Campbell clan in my head

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