Lyrics: How many worries? How many worries... How many nights to dance? How many Oh oh, oh How many worries? How many nights to dance Immersed in oblivion, dreaming of having fun I forget my troubles that prevent me from sleeping I give you a call to avoid thinking How many worries? A life in turmoil We are strange and disturbed people who often try to hinder our progress How many worries? Yes, a life in turmoil But strange and disturbed people often try to hinder our progress Hey yo, it hits hard, look when we arrive Little MIA step, obviously we have the style Stamp on the VISA, the only desire is to leave Dollar or Dinar, we won't throw a tantrum We have the practice, substance, and form A lot of rhymes in the sound, the good and the beautiful Locked on the drums, I've fertilized the album And it's not a bad trip, but I've destroyed the production We love the night, not just in nightclubs We change parties if there are no girls in that one You wonder why, we'll answer you because Because I'm the funkiest in this damn rap game Pop the Moët and the Poppy-Flavored Widow We're bohemians, not young addicts My friends are your friends, my girlfriends are your girlfriends A man is a man, a naughty girl is a naughty girl How many worries? How many nights to dance Immersed in oblivion, dreaming of having fun I forget my troubles that prevent me from sleeping I give you a call to avoid thinking How many worries? A life in turmoil We are strange and disturbed people who often try to hinder our progress How many worries? A life in turmoil But strange and disturbed people often try to hinder our progress All the sorrows and all the hatred are gone On the banks of the Seine, under the lights of Paris And all the sorrows and all the hatred are gone On the banks of the Seine, under the lights of Paris Yo, the youths from the hood are in both woods Gadjis and Gadjos from Marseille to Ris-Pa Of course, they have energy and money in their pockets So as not to miss the opportunity to go home with a hottie Jump into VIP, not know the flop Tequila with jeans, I'm true but I appear soft And I see leggings, I can tell you they're clean And we have royal blood but we don't give a damn, mothafuck How many worries? How many nights to dance Immersed in oblivion, dreaming of having fun I forget my troubles that prevent me from sleeping I give you a call to avoid thinking How many worries? A life in turmoil But strange and disturbed people often try to hinder our progress
