We forget the sounds, sometimes we're stupid. Sometimes we forget the time
- “Also leaving the lessons behind...”
Huh?! I speak clean like a pro in a flop
Like one too big in a crew of handsome tops
Like a McDonald's in the face of a knocked up girl
- “We know that a thousand people are no more than a thousand wimps”
A bunch of herds of oxen and a dunce cap is a knock!
In my crew we give, in my crew we complain
In my crew we create without sugar on our hands
Passion for opposites attracting
Assembling circles into triangles at worst
Complex assembly, geometry variable
One day it's fine, the other goes!
Catch up with the other for a samba
Drunk at night, helped by alcohol. Experiencing alcohol, aided by boredom
Brains go haywire, ideas go wild
We serve at the intermission of online travel...
Queue door seven at the pier
We offer rights, we squat in the bin at the record store!
Hey oh! Too much shit on the airwaves we're not going to make the world dance
Hey oh! We are the pygmalions of rappers without millions
Hey oh! A bitter taste in our syllables and spleen in decibels
Hey oh! We are the pygmalions of rappers without millions
Piss in the tureen kick off the good recipes
The record industry pfff! That's still the industry
Slide in a submarine, give the great family of blessed artists a machete
Do it easy to make the tin can,
br/>A sausage and beans on tour for the concerts
In the piston aperitif, pass me the chorizo
Sing the Caruso I'll give you a good network
We pack it, we compact it, we spread it in the bins
We wash the brains of the babies parked in the boxes
-“I like this which is on my radio! »
A tasteless broth that makes my heart beat!
Soup since time injected into empty tubes
Press on stomachs and make you vomit feeling...
Rap is not dead, I'm even convinced of that
I saw him walking around with a vocoder in his ass

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