Translation of the song lyrics Moussa - MHD

Moussa (original)

Un p’tit des quartiers Nord
Le p’tit qu’on kiff à mort
Un vrai talent la balle au pied, mais veut la street d’abord
Moussa se laisse engrener, c’qu’il préfère c’est zoner
Il veut l’statut d’Zé Pequeno mais sans finir comme Béné
Mauvaises fréquentation, le foot c'était sa passion
Il enchaîne les conneries, on l’voit plus trop à la maison
Changement d’attitude, première garde à vue
Une mère qui pleure le soir, son dernier fils est encore dans la rue
Dernier d’une grande famille, c’est ses frères qui tiennent le rrain-te
Aller-retour en prison, Moussa ne les voyait jamais
Un père restait trop silencieux, qui n’demandait qu'à Dieu de lui donner
enfants pieux
Moussa, Moussa, Moussa
Laisse tes soucis dehors
Moussa, Moussa, Moussa
Y’a Maman qui s’endort
Oulala, oulala, oulala, oulala, oulala
Oulala, oulala, oulala, oulala, oulala
Hey, on ne vit qu’une fois, on ne meurt qu’une fois
Moussa ferme l’appart, peut-être la dernière fois
Les journées s’enchaînent, c’est toujours la même
Avec le quartier voisin, c’est toujours la guerre
Personne pour raisonner dans les deux camps ça parle de fierté
Les p’tits veulent s’en mêler, pour un rien des futilités
Des histoires inconnus, Moussa voulait la rue, ce soir la il aurait tout eu
C’est la bêtise de trop, personne pour stopper l’autre et quand la cible n’est
pas là les innocents en payent les pots
Des coups de feu retentissent, un quartier en larme
Ce soir Moussa rentrera pas
Moussa, Moussa, Moussa
Laisse tes soucis dehors
Moussa, Moussa, Moussa
Y’a Maman qui s’endort
Oulala, oulala, oulala, oulala, oulala
Oulala, oulala, oulala, oulala, oulala
Moussa, Moussa, Moussa
Laisse tes soucis dehors
Moussa, Moussa, Moussa
Y’a Maman qui s’endort
Oulala, oulala, oulala, oulala, oulala
Oulala, oulala, oulala, oulala, oulala

Moussa (translation)

A little of the northern districts
The little one we love to death
A real talent with the ball on his feet, but wants the street first
Moussa lets himself mesh, what he prefers is to zone out
He wants the status of Zé Pequeno but without ending up like Béné
Bad attendance, football was his passion
He goes on bullshit, we don't see him at home anymore
Change of attitude, first police custody
A mother who cries at night, her youngest son is still on the street
Last of a large family, it is his brothers who hold the rrain-te
Round trip to prison, Moussa never saw them
A father remained too silent, who only asked God to give him
pious children
Musa, Musa, Musa
Leave your worries outside
Musa, Musa, Musa
There's Mom falling asleep
Oulala, oulala, oulala, oulala, oulala
Oulala, oulala, oulala, oulala, oulala
Hey, you only live once, you only die once
Moussa closes the apartment, maybe the last time
The days follow one another, it's always the same
With the neighboring district, it's always war
No one to reason on both sides it's about pride
The little ones want to get involved, for nothing of trivialities
Unknown stories, Moussa wanted the street, tonight he would have had it all
It's stupidity too much, no one to stop the other and when the target is
not there the innocents pay the pots
Shots ring out, a neighborhood in tears
Tonight Moussa won't come home
Musa, Musa, Musa
Leave your worries outside
Musa, Musa, Musa
There's Mom falling asleep
Oulala, oulala, oulala, oulala, oulala
Oulala, oulala, oulala, oulala, oulala
Musa, Musa, Musa
Leave your worries outside
Musa, Musa, Musa
There's Mom falling asleep
Oulala, oulala, oulala, oulala, oulala
Oulala, oulala, oulala, oulala, oulala