Lyrics: I've already thought about the end, yet I'm only at the beginning I can still stand up and take responsibility for my actions How long will it last? I don't know When I want to stop, a voice whispers to me that I need it But I know it's false, damn, it's crazy, it's tough It makes me forget that I have many flaws In fact, I'm pensive, I don't know where I'm heading And if I beat around the bush, it's to fill it up, you know what I mean? Money for my loved ones and a top-notch car, that's what I want to live I need to concentrate, be scared, and go in the right direction There should be good sense in my lyrics to be on top when I perform I need to talk to my generation, calm them down a bit Because, believe me, they are extremely angry! They keep hanging around the towers, always under control Taking everything, giving nothing, so of course they push and shove As long as there's money for them, it's cool, but the phone is tapped A commission, a warrant, handcuffs, and everything crumbles I wipe away my pain and hold on, this morning I was talking to a friend He had 18 months in prison, damn I don't even know what to think, except that things need to change It's when you break your ankle that you see them dance It's when you have nothing in your stomach that you see them eating And it's only when you're suffocating that you realize they're breathing That's my perspective, it's like that, you have it or you don't So fight for your share before ending up on the ground, you know? I write on paper, they chase money I rack my brain, it pisses them off I don't party, it's rap and studio I'm less in the neighborhood, less in my cave Less in the dirty stuff, but I'm in my vibe Sometimes I let myself go, I give myself the right to dream Gold records, a villa, three or four Féfés I'm that kid who amazed the elders But once I'm drunk, I find it hard to get the means to do it Hard to clear my mind... I miss the streets Sometimes I see myself losing it and going back to dealing, back to stealing To fighting, to scams, it's not bullshit In my new life, there are only too peace-loving guys, it's weird, right? In the streets, I had problems, and even them, I miss them I need to sort it out, I have friends who fucked me over I lost control and hurt my career I smoked weed, got angry, stressed, anxious Felt like killing a cop Felt like leaving but my passion forces me to stay I love it when the crowd gets hyped at concerts, I love it when they raise their arms Actually, I don't get it anymore, sometimes I feel like quitting everything Sometimes I see myself dying for the music, I hesitate no more If there's money to be made, we take it If there's a neck to hang, we hang it I'm tired of mood swings, I want to change the game Why not leave Paris to write the next album? But for now, I'm here, killing myself with work Dirty rhymes, freestyles, I do it on the fly I'm not in the mood for mine, I'm in your woman's era Mcs rhyme on iPhones, so they're out of date It took me a while to leave my neighborhood Before realizing that my salvation was my pen and my notebook Some assholes hold a grudge against me, think I'm a millionaire They haven't seen my face, I'm just a visionary I'm still far from my last lap I hope it's the same for my last day of life I can't imagine dying right now (God forbid) So close to success, I see my mother crying after that phone call... Praying for my resurrection No seriously, Paris is ugly, we need to escape Deficit, empty pockets, damn it hurts It creates delinquents, kids who will sneak out 10 years later, they have guns and balls They have weapons, joints in their mouths, seduce women in nightclubs Go from a gram to a kilo of weed, because of that: the cops on their tails That's my observation, it's hard to remain consistent Actually, it's really time to get out I thirst for victory, I'm not here just to participate I promised my family that I would make history Hey mom, the time in the foster home seems so far away Now we can afford to pay the rent Yeah, things are going well money-wise, but it sucks in the music scene We thought he was good, but we were wrong I'm not melancholic, I'm just telling a difficult past With all this shit, I could have ended up in a mental institution I was lost, good people opened the door for me And I didn't make the effort to enter Don't ask me why, even I don't know But if I have to find excuses, don't worry, I have plenty It's human nature, we lie to reassure ourselves Even if we're aware that it won't last I only have my dick and my knife, I don't need more To slap some snitches and stab some traitors The weapons and the cash, many have died because of them Always hanging around, crying for our mothers We need to find an escape, we're destined for glory Even if they see us as losers since Prep class And even without poison, the antidote parades A joint, a drink, the anti-establishment of Paris Ask Rémi Rem from Météore, ask Matthieu from Planète Sun Faced with all my punches, they don't have enough guns I kill it in rap, of course I want to make money If I do a feature, there are only crazy ones on the track, like: Lascar Cayenne, Saké, Zakariens Let them laugh, we'll have the last laugh in the end Since I've been practicing... I'm seen as an enigmatic guy I focus on merging substance and style To write images and implant my scenery It's not just about weed and beer, there are friends, there's my mother There are all the guys I knew in the tough life I knew writing rhymes would be risky Because your salary triples when you take off the underwear you had How to clear your head in this industry? They hunger for money and to get it, they behave like little bitches I admit it's sad to admit, but it's true We're eliminated if we don't come from an elite network But I'm not pessimistic, we'll make it through At worst, feet first, lying in a hearse It's always better than living like a dog, sleeping in the metro Reliving the time when you were the boss in the ghetto Yeah, it goes mega fast, when you experience it You can brag one day and beg for coins the next Just to drink some vinegar, do drugs In the dark with 10 guys, all crazy, no! We need hundreds of thousands, millions, billions Adventures, stories to tell our offspring (God willing) Like: "In 2011, I released a killer project At that time, I was messed up and alcoholic, I was killing it with weed I lost some brain cells, kid, don't do the same Or you'll taste my belt, like I tasted my father's I'll hit you out of love so you won't lack guidance" That's a few things I would say to my son NTM was right, he must not stumble Leave me alone, I'm in my hive I write with rage, looking for a solution to get rich I'm tired of chasing after it.
