Lino:
I arrive where the pig reigns as monarch,
Leave marks, embark,
Maximum hatred for the followers of Joan of Arc.
br/>Marks the blow, strikes, remarks and inappropriate blows,
Blows on the flame tired, by the infamous, the past.
Lino exclaims , well placed in the fray,
Overzealous cops, CRS who break down churches.
The execution tangled, in the speeches I 'set the record straight.
Run and get involved, and bang your fist for the deaf.
We're going to hang all these lunatics,
I am the usual suspect that we designate, the one that we assign,
Or that we bleed when they abuse their badges.
in the wrong name, I am housed,
br/>Like a bullet lodged in my skull, my rage has its peak.
I hear of hierarchy in the races, and of rejection,
The traces of 'a cursed era is resurfacing.
And projects for a cleaner France are pouring in.
There are no more jobs, we have pointed the finger at everything that is dull and created pu.
I become a brown Negro and I deploy all my talent,
Because A.N.P.E means No Negro for Employment.
The weight of the words, the shock of the images , my disc causes damage,
I even pay homage, to the land of cheese.
I come and I warn, all dogs, I have no more brakes,
I rap for mine, smoke them all, and God will recognize his own.
{on the chorus}
I put my sights on an anti-negro and rabza target,
To show the blind and tell the deaf, start the raid,
Light the wick, and blow on the flame which soars,
She burns Paname for a new white season and dry
Calbo:
The right path or fraud, and when the dilemma lurks
In my mind, it's like choosing between the stone and the emerald .
The height of life, the ebony hell, the ebony of my skin grows a lack,
Apocalypse veins on stage, Paris in full eclipse.
/>Hate of others and fear of the neighbor, the cop and if you come across one,
Everything gets complicated, especially if you make a living from business.
When not a single outlet shows up the horizon,
The reason they lose in prison, here shit grows on trees,
And now I put my sights on an anti-negro and rabza target.
Blow on the flame and vatsa, you mustn't miss this.
Look, it's not moving enough, it's lying down guys,
All huddled together when the pig vomits its well-placed sentences.
So don't try to respond to bogus lawsuits,
We're going to proceed differently, crudely stuffing ourselves with ham.
The France to French it has the merit of being frank, that's for sure,
It's displayed on the walls, and blood on the hands.
And censorship will be for me, for the explicit text that I just wrote,
Here we insult you with a look, we fuck you with a smile.
It's shit, they want me come home,
Ma stuck in prison because white and dry is the prison.
My resentment has reasons that your heart does not even suspect,
I pose for the negroes and the rabzas, imposes the raid,
Warn before the shocks, comes to the rescue
Like a blow of surin, smoke them all and God will recognize his own.
{in the Chorus}
Lino & Calbo:
A white and dry season, wick lit,
Get off Lucifer, stop me from choke.
I don't preach, I fuck with words, I spit in the 6th cauldron,
Look for breaches, crush the tar.

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