Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Ici, artist - Psy 4 De La Rime. Album song Enfants de la Lune, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 26.09.2005
Record label: 361
Song language: French
Ici(original) |
Enfants de la lune, on vient d’l o№ y a trop d’brume. |
Nos rЄves se brisent… l o№ la route est floue |
On grandi contre coeur, l o№ on s’nourrit de rancune |
Bienvenue… l o№ l’espoir s’consume |
J’viens d’l o№ les cafards ont des buildings |
L o№ Otis pousse ma mre faire du body building |
L o№ les petits n’vont plus en classe, passent leur temps rouler |
Et avance avec un joint de culasse |
La routine comme seul passe-temps |
L o№ les flics te passent les menottes chaque fois qu’tu tue l’temps |
L o№ on s’sert la ceinture pour Єtre bien sap© L o№ on pr (c)f (c)re Єtre ze pequeno que buscap© L o№ les ronaldihno s’blessent avant d'Єtre pro |
L o№ la colo s’appelle mandat de d (c)pot |
L o№ l’alcool sert s’noyer |
L o№ on croit que l’amour n’est qu’un mouvement de poignet |
L o№ la guigne t’fais la bise en t’faisant les poches |
L o№ pour s’enterrer nos dualit (c)s servent de pioches |
Chez nous le sourire est mal agripp© nos lvres |
Et nos vir (c)es en motos s’transforment en cortge funЄbre |
Sueurs froides, c’est parce que les gens ont chang© qu'on s’parle plus |
Qu’on communique avec tant de choses sauf avec la bouche |
Le disque, la seule langue en quoi j’pourrais vous parler |
Sans vice, pin up, bien s"r sans pourparl© On est la couche, qui s (c)pare la maigreur de l’ob (c)sit© Car on est entre Zola, et on sait pas ce qu’on veut |
Etre un vaillant ici ou de l’autre cґt© Les titulaires de la b (c)tise sont mis en doute |
Tu sais, ici les jeunes tombent en mЄme temps que la nuit |
Si nos histoires t’ennuient, tant pis |
On fait que dire ce qu’on vit |
Tu crois savoir comment c’est dur ici |
Si tu savais vraiment ignorant ce qu’on vit |
L’amour nous course, sans prendre de caddie |
Si tu savais vraiment ignorant, le temps nous fuit |
J’ai pourtant cri© tout haut, ce que certains pensaient tout bas |
Tu sais, dure est la vision de voir comme un oiseau d’en bas |
Dur d’planer sans l’effet dl’herbe et l’shit |
Tout comme mes gars amateurs d’grosses caisses et de parties de chatte |
Malgr (c)s mes d (c)fauts, j’reste celui qui d (c)fie les d (c)fauts de la vie |
J’te parle du systme et de ceux qui l’ennuie |
J’te parle des maillons faibles qui haussent le ton |
Avance avec le temps comme ces feuilles mortes o№ se dirige le vent |
J’remercie le bon Dieu d'Єtre encore vivant |
Malgr (c)s des coups d’pass© chers qui allaient me co"ter la vie m (c)disant |
J’suis de ceux, qui d (c)rglent le systeme H-24 |
Qui hachent les mots d’la politesse qui recrache et qui remplatre |
De cette g (c)n (c)ration d (c)cidemment non clean |
Fan de fight club chemise seulement quand les billets s’alignent |
Au fait j’souligne l’amertume que j’ai quand j’vois mes parents |
Car s’sont les seuls devant lesquels j’m’aligne |
Ecoute, j’vais pas m’confesser, car tu pourrais pas m’r (c)pondre |
Autour de moi t’es juste la seule fr (c)quence qui peut capter mes ondes |
Veille sur mes gars, en attendant qu’je sorte |
Ces mЄmes Ruff Riders pilote d’R6 et RS4 |
Car j’supporte plus… l'envers du d (c)cor |
Celle qui ressemble ce bruit en fond qui m’stresse cause du savon |
La vie un coup d’sabre, o№ on sent pas l’mal, on le subit |
Et moi devant ma fenЄtre j’me tais et je t’appr (c)cies |
Tu sais, ici les jeunes tombent en mЄme temps que la nuit |
Si nos histoires t’ennuient, tant pis |
On fait que dire ce qu’on vit |
Tu crois savoir comment c’est dur ici |
Si tu savais vraiment ignorant ce qu’on vit |
(L'amour nous course, sans prendre de caddie |
Si tu savais vraiment ignorant, le temps nous fuit) |
La plume (c)crit moi j’percute le temps aprs |
C’est un go"t amer mes vers pas vrai c’est flou comme la brume |
La brune, lўche moi les burnes, j’l’ai l’envers les tunes |
Am (c)liore rien car je suis l (c)s© Laiss© l'abandon par le courage |
Mais j’suis un homme il faut que je me relve sans baton, sans hame§ on |
Sans penser qu’autrui la rage |
Donc passons, les ilotages sont plus sujets premiers |
Donc pensons, au monde qu’on va laisser aux bambins |
«Tigo»; |
la chance veut pas lacher d’sourire |
Rien d’nous broute depuis l'(c)poque de la petite souris |
Ici quand les dents tombent c’est que tu es conscient qui faut en avoir bon |
sous le lit |
Ma mre combat mes flammes avec ces larmes |
Mon fils avec l’urine car c’est le seul mec qui m’pisse dessus |
Car c’est le seul mec qui prend le dessus |
Le seul qui me calme bonsoir la jeunesse de France |
J’ai la parole lourde et simple malheur dans la bouche, |
la triste r (c)alit© j'ai l ce qui te touches, la m (c)lodie du drame, |
le chant d’l'(c)poque d’la connerie humaine |
Ces blocs je cane |
Comme nos mres qui ne font que mouiller leurs pommettes |
car la lettre, veux du bled «des blometre» |
Faut que j’collecte 8 millimtres qui me mnent mon maitre |
Le seul pouvoir soigner ce mal Єtre qu’on se relvent colgue |
Qu’on lguent nos fils la vision d’un homme honnЄte |
Qu’il n’est pas le voir du haut d’une fenЄtre |
Se mettre, semer des roses, au lieu de chrysanthmes |
Car sous les larmes, l’espoir est une flamme qui peut s'(c)teindre |
Tu sais, ici les jeunes tombent en mЄme temps que la nuit |
Si nos histoires t’ennuient, tant pis |
On fait que dire ce qu’on vit |
Tu crois savoir comment c’est dur ici |
Si tu savais vraiment ignorant ce qu’on vit |
(L'amour nous course, sans prendre de caddie |
Si tu savais vraiment ignorant, le temps nous fuit) |
Thanks to |
(translation) |
Children of the moon, we come from where there is too much mist. |
Our dreams are shattered... where the road is blurry |
We grew up reluctantly, where we feed on resentment |
Welcome… where hope is consumed |
I come from where the cockroaches have buildings |
Where Otis Pushes My Mom To Body Building |
Where the little ones don't go to class anymore, spend their time rolling |
And move on with a head gasket |
Routine as a hobby |
Where the cops handcuff you every time you kill time |
Where we use the belt to be well dressed Where we pr (c)f (c)re to be ze pequeno que buscap© Where the ronaldihno get hurt before being pro |
L o№ la colo is called d (c)pot mandate |
Where alcohol is used to drown |
L o№ we believe that love is just a flick of the wrist |
L o№ the bad luck you kiss while picking your pockets |
L o№ to bury our duality (c)s serve as pickaxes |
With us the smile is badly clinging to our lips |
And our motorcycle rides turn into a funeral procession |
Cold sweats, it's because people have changed that we talk more |
That we communicate with so many things except with the mouth |
The record, the only language in which I could speak to you |
Without vice, pin up, of course without parley We are the diaper, which s (c) adorns the thinness of the ob (c) sity © Because we are between Zola, and we don't know what we want |
To be a valiant here or the other side Holders of the b(c)tise are in doubt |
You know, here the young fall with the night |
If our stories bore you, too bad |
We just say what we live |
You think you know how hard it is here |
If you really knew ignorant what we're going through |
Love races us, without taking a cart |
If you really knew ignorant, time runs away from us |
Yet I shouted out loud, what some were thinking quietly |
You know, hard is the vision to see like a bird from below |
Hard to get high without the effect of weed and hash |
Just like my bass drum and pussy loving guys |
Despite (c)s my d (c)faults, I remain the one who d (c)fies the d (c)faults of life |
I tell you about the system and those who annoy it |
I'm talking to you about the weak links that raise their voices |
Advance with time like those dead leaves where the wind blows |
I thank God for still being alive |
Despite (c)s expensive blows that were going to cost me my life m (c)saying |
I'm one of those who d (c) regulate the H-24 system |
Which chop the words of politeness which spits out and fills up |
Of this g(c)n(c)ration d(c)cidedly not clean |
Fight Club Fan Shirt Only When Tickets Line Up |
By the way I underline the bitterness that I have when I see my parents |
Because they are the only ones in front of which I align myself |
Listen, I'm not going to confess, because you could not answer me |
Around me you're just the only frequency that can pick up my vibes |
Watch over my guys, waiting for me to come out |
Those same Ruff Riders pilot R6 and RS4 |
Because I can't stand the other side of the (c)cor anymore |
The one that looks like that noise in the background that stresses me out because of the soap |
Life a saber, where we don't feel the evil, we suffer it |
And me in front of my window I am silent and I appreciate you (c)cies |
You know, here the young fall with the night |
If our stories bore you, too bad |
We just say what we live |
You think you know how hard it is here |
If you really knew ignorant what we're going through |
(Love is racing us, without taking a cart |
If you really knew ignorant, time runs away from us) |
The pen (c)writes to me I hit the time after |
It's a bitter taste my verses ain't it blurry like mist |
The brunette, let go of my balls, I have it upside down |
Am(c)improve nothing cause I am l(c)s©Leave abandonment by courage |
But I'm a man I have to get up without a stick, without a hook |
Without thinking that others rage |
So let's move on, the islands are more prime subjects |
So let's think about the world we'll leave to the toddlers |
“Tigo”; |
luck doesn't want to smile |
Nothing grazes us since the (c)time of the little mouse |
Here when the teeth fall out it's because you're aware that you have to be good |
under the bed |
My mother fights my flames with these tears |
My son with the urine cause he's the only guy pissing on me |
'Cause he's the only dude taking over |
The only one who calms me good evening the youth of France |
I have the heavy and simple word misfortune in my mouth, |
the sad r (c)ality I have what touches you, the m (c)lody of the drama, |
the song of the (c)epoch of human bullshit |
These blocks I can |
Like our mothers who only wet their cheekbones |
because the letter, want corn "des blometre" |
I have to collect 8 millimeters that lead me to my master |
The only power to cure this malaise that we become colleagues |
Let our sons bequeath the vision of an honest man |
That he is not seeing it from the top of a window |
Sit down, sow roses, instead of chrysanthemums |
Because under tears, hope is a flame that can be extinguished |
You know, here the young fall with the night |
If our stories bore you, too bad |
We just say what we live |
You think you know how hard it is here |
If you really knew ignorant what we're going through |
(Love is racing us, without taking a cart |
If you really knew ignorant, time runs away from us) |
Thanks to |