The steps of a poor guy in a hurry
Lead him to certain and early death, he knows it
Since the day he saw his brother trade
A white bag for money with a local guy
So why not do like him
He found money to buy his corner of paradise
A ticket first re for ecstasy on charter
It was a very expensive price to pay for fleeting enjoyment
And today, such is its existence
Selling small packages to satisfy his addiction
Hin, and one night everything changed
While he was selling, a patrol took him away
He only saw his city again through bars
And died alone with his last dose of hero
There was no one to cry at the funeral
The white bag has one more dead in its ranks
Chorus
The white bag poisons the blood
The white bag poisons life
Time stops around me
I must have gone to the wrong paradise
A dark street a limousine enters
In front of it a Cadillac waits in the storm
We take out the goods and the small suitcase
The tension builds under the gray gabardines
Because the guys who are there have nothing left to prove
In the bastard style they have asserted themselves
With a clear conscience, they can go home
Sure and certain they will never end up in prison
Normally, they don't walk the sidewalks
And have no idea what despair is
br/>For them, it's all a matter of money
And whatever the price, they won't have to pay it
It's snowing flakes of hero on my city ¯ne
The style of powder that plunges you into the abyss
While some rub their hands
Thinking of the money they will raise the next day
After that we promise you a war like we've never seen
Against drugs in the street
So many fabrications, and extrapolations
Knowing that poison is inside the bastion
And yes everyone knows, the problem is not the dealer
Killing evil at its source would be much better
Because selling white wine is forbidden, that's for sure
Unless you have a villa on the Côte d'Azur
That you only carry around in a Limousine
And that your wife wears a sable coat
If you don't have all that you don't live long
And the white bag has one more death in its ranks
Chorus
Powder, dust, the road is not long
It starts from the first and stops at the second
Forgetting no one, neither child nor man
Just like alcohol, it destroys those who indulge in it
Those who bring it in by the tons have nothing to do with it
A pregnant woman will not give a damn in her veins
br/>It's stronger than me, what else could I wish for them?
Other than that their son takes drugs
When their partner looks at them sobbing
Because the powder will have stolen flesh from their flesh, blood from their blood
I would tell them to listen in the city, this evening,
The footsteps of a poor guy in a hurry
The white bag has one more death in its ranks
Chorus
The white bag
I must have gone to the wrong paradise

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