Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Destins croisés, artist - La Boussole
Date of issue: 30.11.2004
Song language: French
Destins croisés(original) |
C’est le genre de type qui aimait déconner |
Avec ses potes, devant les meufs sort son bluff |
Aime bien jouer les gros bonnets |
Il les embobinait, en plus de ça mythonait |
Si il faut promet la lune pour les cartonner |
Dès qu’elles veulent moyenner, pas de tel-hô mais |
C’est la cave, d’toute manière du prix des 'tasses tu seras couronné |
À la baraque joue l’daron pour mieux sanctionner |
Sa sœur espionnée, bastonnée et puis cloisonnée |
Si il pouvait wAllah elle serait emprisonnée |
Disproportionné, j’demande à Dieu de le pardonner |
Un soir dans le hall un d’ses potes lui a téléphoné |
Y’a du plan à l’hôtel, une meuf qui se fait tourner |
On a dit non, y’avait moi, Ibrahim et Coné |
«Bande de bouffons» voilà l’genre de discours qu’il tenait |
Arrive sur place, baisse son froc, commence à donner |
Puis au premier cri c’est sa voix qu’il reconnait |
Avec sa sœur nez à nez, il a pris le chemin erroné |
Pète un câble et c’est le seum qui vient dominer |
Tue sa sœur de ses mains, on a pas pu le raisonner |
Le soir même sur sa tempe son Glock a détonné |
On était partis pour s’aimer d’un amour pour 6 vies |
Amoureux depuis l'école, étaient Yvan et Sylvie |
Rien d’ombrageux au-dessus de leur tête |
Un mariage heureux célébré par le prêtre |
Yvan est si bon que Sylvie en fait sa vie |
Une image de bonheur que le monde entier envie |
Mais à l’origine du proverbe «Gentil n’a qu’un œil» |
Il y a Yvan, sa bouteille et son fauteuil |
En effet, Yvan est plus que violent |
Quand il abuse de la boisson son amour devient brûlant |
Un alcoolisme inavoué subit par ses proches |
Qui lui coûtera son boulot et le creux de ses poches |
Sylvie peu confiante lui annonce qu’il sera père |
D’un garçon qu’ils appelleront comme le père |
Yvan est aux anges et pour fêter rempli son verre |
De sa réaction c’est sa femme qu’il perd |
Voilà 10 ans que Sylvie vit isolée |
Avec petit Yvan, le fils d’un mari désolé |
Et ils alternent le garde, se comportent en bons parents |
Petit Yvan n’a pas de problèmes apparents |
Mais il sait très bien qu’en son père loup sommeil |
Les cicatrices de sa mère par les tessons de bouteilles |
Ces derniers temps Yvan et Sylvie se querellent |
Chez qui ira petit Yvan le soir de Noël |
L’enfant veut la mère mais le père se fout de la mère |
Il lui frappe le visage et l’histoire dégénère |
«Tu m’as volé mon fils durant 10 ans, ce soir il est à moi que tu le veuilles |
ou non» |
Il la frappe et le sang sort de sa bouche |
Sylvie perds connaissance et sur le sol se couche |
Mais petit Yvan a le cœur rempli de haine |
Il recharge son fusil et abat son paternel |
Lui (lui) c’est un jeune beur (jeune beur) issu d’un quartier sensible |
Elle (elle) d’un autre genre, d’un autre lieu bien plus paisible |
Lui (lui) n’a plus d'école, n’a pas de goal, n’a plus qu’le vide |
Elle (elle) n’a pas de potes mais a les poches pleines de liquide |
Lui (lui) vit en famille dans un 2 pièces à 6 |
Elle (elle) seulement à 3 dans une immense villa de riche |
Lui trime, elle pas, lui crie, elle pas, lui fuit, elle pas, lui ci, elle ça |
Lui (lui) fait des erreurs mais elle aussi |
Mais à ce jour lui a payé ses torts, elle récidivera à vie |
Lui (lui) se fait du souci pour sa mère, elle en fait aussi mais à la sienne |
Le pire c’est qu’il s’avère que |
Lui (lui) souhaite être comme elle, elle de n'être pas comme lui |
Lui sait très bien que elle, elle se fiche bien de lui |
Lui (lui) peine encore pour s’intégrer |
Elle (elle) sniffe des rails qu’elle se paie pour se désintégrer |
Lui (lui) a des rêves mais elle (elle) les réalise |
Lui (lui) c’est sa souffrance qu’il traîne, elle ses sous qu’elle trie |
Lui (lui) persévère quand elle (elle) se démotive |
Lui (lui) perd ses vers pendant que elle se dit que |
Lui (lui) et elle (elle) n’ont pas les mêmes vies |
Lui (lui) les flics le pistent, elle le fisc l’ennui |
Lui (lui) et elle (elle) se verront même pas parce que |
Lui (lui) et elle ont un destin qui ne se croisent pas |
(translation) |
He's the kind of guy who liked to mess around |
With his friends, in front of the girls comes out his bluff |
Likes to play the big shots |
He bamboozled them, on top of that mythonized |
If you have to promise the moon to hit them |
As soon as they want to average, no such-ho but |
This is the cellar, anyway of the price of 'cups you will be crowned |
At the barrack plays the daron to better punish |
His sister spied, beaten and then locked up |
If he could wAllah she would be imprisoned |
Disproportionate, I ask God to forgive him |
One evening in the lobby one of his friends called him |
There's a plan at the hotel, a girl who is being turned |
We said no, there was me, Ibrahim and Coné |
"Band of buffoons" that's the kind of speech he held |
Get there, drop her pants, start giving |
Then at the first cry it's her voice that he recognizes |
With his sister face to face, he took the wrong path |
Go crazy and it's the seum that comes to dominate |
Kill his sister with his hands, we couldn't reason with him |
That same evening on his temple his Glock went off |
We left to love each other with a love for 6 lives |
In love since school, were Yvan and Sylvie |
Nothing Shady Above Their Heads |
A happy marriage celebrated by the priest |
Yvan is so good that Sylvie makes a living out of it |
An image of happiness that the whole world envies |
But the origin of the proverb "Gentile has only one eye" |
There's Yvan, his bottle and his armchair |
Indeed, Yvan is more than violent |
When he abuses the drink his love gets hot |
An unacknowledged alcoholism suffered by his relatives |
Which will cost him his job and the hollow of his pockets |
Sylvie, not very confident, announces to him that he will be a father |
Of a boy they will call after the father |
Yvan is in heaven and to celebrate filled his glass |
From his reaction it is his wife that he loses |
Sylvie has been living in isolation for 10 years |
With little Yvan, the son of a sorry husband |
And they take turns guarding, behaving like good parents |
Petit Yvan has no apparent problems |
But he knows very well that in his wolf father sleeps |
Her mother's scars from broken bottles |
Lately Yvan and Sylvie have been quarreling |
Where will little Yvan go on Christmas Eve |
The child wants the mother but the father doesn't care about the mother |
He punches her in the face and the story escalates |
"You stole my son from me for 10 years, tonight he's mine if you want him |
or not" |
He hits her and blood comes out of her mouth |
Sylvie loses consciousness and on the ground lies down |
But little Yvan has a heart full of hate |
He reloads his gun and shoots his father |
He (him) is a young beur (young beur) from a sensitive neighborhood |
She (she) of another kind, from another much more peaceful place |
He (him) no longer has a school, has no goal, only has emptiness |
She (she) has no friends but has pockets full of cash |
He (him) lives with his family in a 2-room apartment for 6 |
She (she) only 3 in a huge villa of rich |
He toils, she doesn't, shouts at him, she doesn't, runs away from him, she doesn't, he this, she that |
He (him) makes mistakes but so does she |
But so far paid her for her wrongs, she will reoffend for life |
He (him) worries about his mother, she does too, but about his |
The worst part is that it turns out |
He (him) wishes to be like her, she not to be like him |
He knows very well that she, she doesn't care about him |
He (him) is still struggling to fit in |
She (she) sniffs rails that she pays herself to disintegrate |
He (he) has dreams but she (she) makes them come true |
Him (him) it's his suffering that he drags, she her pennies that she sorts |
He (her) perseveres when she (she) becomes demotivated |
He (him) loses his verses while she thinks that |
He (him) and she (her) don't have the same lives |
He (him) the cops track him, she the taxman boredom |
He (him) and she (she) won't even see each other because |
He (he) and she have a destiny that does not intersect |