Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Quand Ils Rentraient Chez Eux , by - IAM. Song from the album Anthologie IAM 2008, in the genre ПопRelease date: 19.06.2008
Record label: Capitol
Song language: French
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Quand Ils Rentraient Chez Eux , by - IAM. Song from the album Anthologie IAM 2008, in the genre ПопQuand Ils Rentraient Chez Eux(original) |
| Quoi d’plus solitaire, qu’avoir l’destin comme pre, l’mal comme compre |
| Quoi faire part s’taire, quand la mort t’guette sur l’asphalte |
| Les pieds sur terre, les yeux rivs sur les autres, quand ils rentraient |
| Moi j’tais, aux mmes endroits fixs, la tte dans les toiles, et Fallait-la voir, cette putain d’toile, irrelle que f’sait ma vie |
| La principale, celle qui s’trouve dans la rue, hlas la spirale |
| Celle qui t’mne vers l’gouffre, ou droit vers l’univers carcral |
| O les gosses, s’perdent o pour la plupart des mes souffrent, o les lames |
| s’ouvrent |
| O on t’prouve, qu’seule la force t’couvre, et qu’les faibles crvent |
| Dans c’milieu, fallait pas tre prt, mais dtermin sans trve |
| Quand ils rentraient chez eux, j’trouvais qu’ils trahissaient la cause ouais |
| Pour moi y’avait pas d’pause, on tait l, fallait occuper l’terrain |
| Quand ils rentraient chez eux, la force, vire la haine, celle qui cerne |
| Berne, les proies ternes, qui s’perdaient, dans nos ruelles |
| O rgne l’cruel, l’ring des duels, l’truc habituel |
| Sauf qu’l, on voulait surtout pas qu’nos coeurs s’glent, Mam’zelle |
| Malgr tout, on vivait peut-tre mieux qu’ceux qu’avaient tout |
| On riait au maximum, sachant qu’on avanait dans l’flou |
| C’tait l’but, pas crever, vivre, dire qu’on existe, mme ivres |
| Ma main libre, livre ma fibre, quand nos coeurs vibrent |
| Cible, la mme chose, Rh, ma passion la zik |
| L’motion, chez nous, a jamais t basique |
| Quand ils rentraient chez eux, j’avais toujours d’ct une p’tite larme |
| L’fait d’avoir grandi, sans pre ni mre, m’a fait couler trop d’grammes |
| Toujours de ceux qui restaient au sol colls, dans le dcor |
| Comme ces bancs, devant l’ocan bant |
| 100 fois le monde fut refait rves conqurants |
| Les pieds dedans on luttait vaillamment |
| A l’heure o les autres rentraient les survivants |
| Errer dehors cherchant la clef des champs |
| Les nuages chevauchant, l’espoir s’accrochant; |
| Malgr a, on riait frquemment |
| Sous le lampadaire, a chambrait mchamment |
| Inconscients, peut-tre, alors que dj du son, nous tions les amants |
| Le principal soucis, c’tait pas de manger dcemment |
| J’rentrais doucement, c’t’heure tardive, quand le soleil chassait la nuit |
| Rempli d’exploits dans cet’jungle, o tous les jours j’chassais l’ennui sur les |
| Marches, des heures sur le derche, blotti sur une seule barre de mtal |
| Misre mentale, 10 balles en poche avec une Marlboro Light |
| Moi, j’chiale pas, je relate, c’tait pas l’ghetto, mais que pouvais-je |
| Esprer d’mieux, en quittant l’domicile de mon pre si tt Ma mre croyait qu’j’trainais dans l’mtro, faisant la manche |
| Mais j’comptais les minutes ma montre, et tous ces putains d’jours c’tait |
| Dimanche |
| Comme quand j’retirais l’huile, sur mes lvres, de mon revers de manche |
| Regrettant les repas d’Man, quand j’tais mme, devant mon verre de menthe |
| Ouais timide, facilement vert de honte, cet air me hante |
| C’est bte comme on en arrive har ces petits cons pleins d’chance |
| Quand ils rentraient chez eux, l’assiette fumait la maison |
| J’fumais des bongs draison, dernier con rester assis sur l’banc |
| Prsent chaque saison, rimes magistrales, forges l o l’homme |
| Se forge, affrontant l’froid glacial en parka les nuits de mistral |
| La tte dans les toiles, mes couteurs, crachaient l’son d’Marley Marl |
| J’voulais m’faire la malle, sentiments poss sur un carnet sale |
| A force de lire, j’compris qu’Dieu n’a d’gal, j’tais dans l’noir |
| Et savoir que personne tendrait la main pour m’en sortir m’a fait mal |
| Quand ils rentraient sur le palier laissant soucis et crasses |
| J’suis rest l subir, jusqu' c’que mon propre thorax m’crase |
| Comme quoi, le silence de la douleur est parfois bien plus fort que le bruit de la rage |
| Toujours de ceux qui restaient au sol colls, dans le dcor |
| Comme ces bancs matre sant |
| C’trottoir a vu natre un nombre d’MC consquents |
| Une grappe de persistants |
| Peu peu s’forgeant l’heure o d’autres patientaient leur repas |
| S’rchauffant, nous on parlait au vent |
| Les nuages chevauchant |
| L’estomac rugissant |
| La musique mrissant |
| Nos rves se dressant vers le firmament |
| C’est pas qu’on voulait fuir maman |
| Mais ce truc, on y tenait fermement |
| Ca nous a fait grandir, patiemment mrir |
| L’envie de dire |
| Commencer s’languir |
| (translation) |
| What could be more lonely than having destiny as a father, evil as understanding |
| What to do to keep quiet, when death awaits you on the asphalt |
| Feet on the ground, eyes riveted on the others, when they returned |
| Me, I was, in the same fixed places, my head in the stars, and Was it necessary to see it, this fucking star, unreal that my life makes |
| The main one, the one in the street, alas the spiral |
| The one that takes you to the abyss, or straight to the prison universe |
| O the kids get lost where most souls suffer, where the blades |
| open |
| Where you are tested, only strength covers you, and the weak die |
| In this environment, you shouldn't be ready, but relentlessly determined |
| When they came home, I thought they betrayed the cause yeah |
| For me there was no break, we were there, we had to occupy the field |
| When they returned home, the force, turns the hatred, that which surrounds |
| Bern, the dull prey, which got lost, in our alleys |
| O rgne the cruel, the ring of duels, the usual thing |
| Except that, above all, we didn't want our hearts to go wrong, Mam'zelle |
| Despite everything, maybe we lived better than those who had everything |
| We laughed to the fullest, knowing that we were moving forward in the blur |
| That was the goal, not to die, to live, to say that we exist, even drunk |
| My free hand, deliver my fiber, when our hearts vibrate |
| Target, the same thing, Rh, my passion the zik |
| Emotion, with us, has never been basic |
| When they came home, I always had a little tear on my side |
| The fact of having grown up, without a father or a mother, made me sink too many grams |
| Always of those who remained on the ground glued, in the decor |
| Like these benches, in front of the bant ocean |
| 100 times the world was remade conquering dreams |
| Feet in we fought valiantly |
| As the others returned the survivors |
| Wander outside seeking the key to the fields |
| Clouds riding, hope clinging; |
| Despite that, we laughed frequently |
| Beneath the lamppost, it was chambering wickedly |
| Unconscious, perhaps, when already sound, we were the lovers |
| The main concern was not to eat decently |
| I was coming home slowly, it's late hour, when the sun chased away the night |
| Filled with exploits in this jungle, where every day I hunted boredom on the |
| Steps, hours on the derche, huddled on a single metal bar |
| Mental misery, 10 in the pocket with a Marlboro Light |
| Me, I don't cry, I relate, it wasn't the ghetto, but what could I |
| Hoping for better, leaving my father's house so soon My mother thought I was hanging out in the subway, begging |
| But I was counting the minutes on my watch, and all those fucking days it was |
| Sunday |
| Like when I removed the oil, on my lips, from my cuff |
| Regretting the meals of Man, when I was even, in front of my glass of mint |
| Yeah shy, easily green with shame, that look haunts me |
| It's silly how it comes to these lucky little cunts |
| When they got home the plate smoked the house |
| I was smoking bongs draison, last idiot to stay seated on the bench |
| Present every season, masterful rhymes, forged where man |
| Is forged, facing the freezing cold in a parka on mistral nights |
| Head in the stars, my headphones, spitting the sound of Marley Marl |
| I wanted to make the trunk, feelings poss on a dirty notebook |
| By dint of reading, I understood that God has no equal, I was in the dark |
| And knowing that no one would reach out to get me out hurt me |
| When they came back on the landing leaving worries and grime |
| I stayed there to suffer, until my own chest crushed me |
| Like what, the silence of pain is sometimes much louder than the sound of rage |
| Always of those who remained on the ground glued, in the decor |
| Like these master health benches |
| This sidewalk has seen the birth of a number of substantial MCs |
| A Cluster of Persistent |
| Gradually forging the time when others waited for their meal |
| Warming up, we were talking to the wind |
| The clouds riding |
| The roaring stomach |
| The music grows |
| Our dreams rising to the firmament |
| It's not that we wanted to run away from mom |
| But this stuff, we held on tight |
| It made us grow, patiently mature |
| The urge to say |
| start to yearn |
| Name | Year |
|---|---|
| C'est Donc Ça Nos Vies | 2013 |
| Marseille la nuit | 2013 |
| Oran Marseille ft. IAM | 2006 |
| La Part Du Démon | 2012 |
| Dangereux | 2013 |
| Petit Frère | 2013 |
| Un Bon Son Brut Pour Les Truands | 2013 |
| Benkei Et Minamoto | 2012 |
| Bouger La Tête | 2013 |
| Je Danse Le Mia | 2006 |
| Nés Sous La Même Étoile | 2013 |
| Bienvenue (Featuring Beyoncé) ft. Beyoncé, Bruno Coulais | 2008 |
| Elle Donne Son Corps Avant Son Nom | 2013 |
| 4.2.1 | 2012 |
| La 25ème Image ft. Nuttea | 2006 |
| La Saga | 2006 |
| L'école Du Micro D'argent | 2013 |
| L'empire Du Côté Obscur | 2013 |
| Un Cri Court Dans La Nuit ft. Nuttea | 2013 |
| Independenza | 2013 |