The day is dawning in my suburbs
I'm cold, it's not winter
What the hell could I do in the name of God
I I don't have any shape and I don't look
Seriously, seriously
I'm a thug among many others
I create not far from the defense
I look dirty, it's not my fault
My HLM is not bizance
My friend, my friend
When I was 14 my father
He got me hired at the factory
2 days later I made the cut
It seems like I'm a unworthy son
Damn
One evening in a deserted street
I ran over a Honda 500
To an honest bourgeois son
With her I go 200
Yeah, it's cool, it's cool
My friend Pierrot crashed
On the highway on a rainy day
br/>Sometimes I hear him laughing
It's sure he's in heaven
You're puffed up, you're puffed up
And I continue my cinema
At the foot of these shabby buildings
I would like to die before I am ugly
I would like to end up like you, my old man
Gavroche
I'm a peripheral thug
I'm fed up with this place
France is a shitty suburb
As my friend says friend Mohamed
To the cops, to the cops
The day is dawning in my suburbs
I'm cold, it's not winter
It's drà "The asphalt is all blue
There's my bike creaming on the ground
Good God, my God
Oh, good God, my God
br/>Oh, my God, good God
Oh, good God, oh, my God

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