
Date of issue: 04.11.2012
Song language: French
Nouvel automne(original) |
Repeating of the- |
Singing echoes of the- |
Reproduction of the same thing |
Trying to get a bit of the sunshine… |
Le ciel fait grise mine, le soleil perd ses rayons |
Nouvel automne qui rend triste, la fine mine de mon crayon |
Le JT range people, zik, crime dans le même rayon |
Honneur, justice perdant face au fric, frime souvent triomphe |
De la poussière sur le sillon (non), le disque n’est pas rayé (non) |
Rap rebellion, bélier défonce les portillons |
Génération dépareillée à la quête du billet |
Quel que soit le PIB du pays l’oseille nous rend cannibale |
La tension est palpable, les mecs s’insultent mais ne se parlent pas |
Les petits piétinent les instits, veulent imiter les sales types |
Les petites astiquent des bittes et trouvent ça fantastique |
Je tourne en rond, compte quatre piges en une saison |
Maison-Studio, Studio-Maison, encore une session |
Entre grèves et manifs, comme d’hab' je fête mon anniv' |
Noir à lunettes moins naïf, à chaque nouvel automne |
Repeating of the- |
Singing echoes of the- |
Reproduction of the same thing |
Trying to get a bit of the sunshine… |
(Bit of the sunshine) |
(Little bit of the sunshine, hey) |
Repeating of the- |
Singing echoes of the- |
Reproduction of the same thing |
Trying to get a bit of the sunshine… |
Ici on boxe à la Rocky, mec |
Doc' pas besoin de ta fuckin' aide |
Si les condés toquent en bas des blocs, c’est pas pour copiner |
J’accumule les fausses notes, les clopinettes |
Les procédés trop funestes, les pauses clopes et les coffees nègres |
Les poches vides, trop diraient qu’on stagne |
Mais les robinets sont stables, on s’active et bosse depuis longtime |
Y a que comme comme comme ça qu’on peut peaufiner son style |
Depuis gosse gosse je pose comme un forcené nostalgique |
Sur mes mains je comptais les cloques par dix, dans la rue |
Posté comme un tox ou un pauvre artiste |
J’ai vu des khos virer atroces, et des potes partir |
Des gamines fêlées qu’on accoste à des heures tardives, déconné |
Malgré les cônes, les plans sales |
Les échecs à l'école, boy, les coups donnés dans le sac |
Avouez qu’il serait temps qu’on décolle, tout donner, tant le savent |
Les poumons goudronnés, je fume la prod' comme une drogue indispensable |
I got shelter |
And I got freedom |
But there’s gotta be more to this than |
Putting bread on the table |
I got shelter |
I got my freedom |
But I gotta make more of this now… |
Surely I’m able… |
Et yo on ne voit rien de bien, résultat on traîne |
Cousin, on tue le temps à moins que ce ne soit le contraire |
Et on en voit de toutes les couleurs #vision arc en ciel |
Y a bien un soleil derrière l’orage, donc on attend le terme |
Au plus jeune âge tant de frères ont déjà tant de haine |
J’en ai un qui traîne un cancer, un autre soigne son père |
En bas de la rue un autre chaque jour pense à cogner le sien |
A oublié le goût du lait de celle qui lui a donné le sein |
Les saisons passent, on voit éclore les bourgeons puis se joncher les feuilles |
Je taffe pour que le fruit de mes brouillons puisse éponger les pleurs |
Le temps abîme, lasse, laisse des cicatrices |
Et même la vie d’artiste ne saurait apaiser un cœur |
And I gotta keep moving on and on and on… |
(Little bit of the sunshine) |
Keep on moving on and on |
(Little bit of the sunshine) |
Gotta keep on- |
(Little bit of the sunshine) |
Keep on moving on and on |
(Little bit of the sunshine) |
Gotta keep- |
(Little bit of the sunshine) |
Gotta keep on moving on and on |
(Little bit of the sunshine) |
Gotta keep on moving- |
(Little bit of the sunshine) |
Moving on and on… |
(People gotta keep moving on and on and on) |
(translation) |
Repeating of the- |
Singing echoes of the- |
Reproduction of the same thing |
Trying to get a bit of the sunshine… |
The sky is gray, the sun loses its rays |
New autumn that makes my pencil lead sad |
The JT ranges people, zik, crime in the same department |
Honor, justice losing to money, often showing off triumphs |
Dust on groove (no), record not scratched (no) |
Rap rebellion, ram breaks down the gates |
Mismatched generation in search of the ticket |
Whatever the country's GDP, sorrel makes us cannibalistic |
The tension is palpable, the guys insult each other but do not speak |
The little ones trample the teachers, want to imitate the dirty guys |
Girls polish dicks and think it's fantastic |
I go around in circles, count four rods in a season |
House-Studio, Studio-House, another session |
Between strikes and protests, as usual I'm celebrating my birthday |
Black bespectacled less naive, every new fall |
Repeating of the- |
Singing echoes of the- |
Reproduction of the same thing |
Trying to get a bit of the sunshine… |
(Bit of the sunshine) |
(Little bit of the sunshine, hey) |
Repeating of the- |
Singing echoes of the- |
Reproduction of the same thing |
Trying to get a bit of the sunshine… |
Here we boxing Rocky style, man |
Doc' don't need your fuckin' help |
If the cops knock down the blocks, it's not to be friends |
I accumulate the false notes, the hobbies |
The processes too fatal, the cigarette breaks and the nigger coffees |
Empty pockets, too many would say that we are stagnating |
But the taps are steady, we bustin' and bumpin' for a long time |
There's only so you can refine your style |
Since kid kid I pose like a nostalgic madman |
On my hands I counted the blisters by ten, in the street |
Posted as a junkie or a poor artist |
I've seen khos turn atrocious, and homies leave |
Cracked kids who we accost at late hours, screwed up |
Despite the cones, the dirty plans |
Chess at school, boy, kicking in the sack |
Admit it's time we took off, give it our all, they both know |
Lungs tarred, I smoke the product like an essential drug |
I got shelter |
And I got freedom |
But there's gotta be more to this than |
Putting bread on the table |
I got shelter |
I got my freedom |
But I gotta make more of this now… |
Surely I’m able… |
And yo we don't see nothing good, result we drag |
Cousin, we're killing time unless it's the opposite |
And we see all the colors #vision rainbow |
There's a sun behind the storm, so we're waiting for the end |
At a young age so many brothers already have so much hatred |
I got one dragging cancer, another nursing dad |
Down the street another every day thinks of hitting his |
Forgot the taste of the milk of the one who gave him the breast |
The seasons pass, we see the buds hatch and then the leaves are strewn |
I work so that the fruit of my drafts can absorb the tears |
Time damages, wearies, leaves scars |
And even the life of an artist cannot appease a heart |
And I gotta keep moving on and on and on… |
(Little bit of the sunshine) |
Keep on moving on and on |
(Little bit of the sunshine) |
Gotta keep on- |
(Little bit of the sunshine) |
Keep on moving on and on |
(Little bit of the sunshine) |
Gotta keep- |
(Little bit of the sunshine) |
Gotta keep on moving on and on |
(Little bit of the sunshine) |
Gotta keep on moving- |
(Little bit of the sunshine) |
Moving on and on… |
(People gotta keep moving on and on and on) |
Artist lyrics: Vicelow
Artist lyrics: Akhenaton
Artist lyrics: Sako
Artist lyrics: Rachel Claudio