Jul – C’est le son de la gratte (English lyrics)

1st verse :
Cousin, I’m riding around on a TDM
Under Grey Goose, I forget my problems
And I cough when I smoke too much herb
Homie, I didn’t betray the omerta
I don’t call you when I need help
You don’t like me, just know that me either
Don’t worry, I’m rolling, I making my joint
If I don’t hang around, it’s because I don’t feel you guys anymore
You talk down on me, well, fuck your ancestors
Don’t be suprised if we come through 7 of us in a Golf 5
Stop acting like a mobster, you’re just a sock

Chorus (x2)
Put on your ski mask
This is the moocher’s sound
Stolen car
This is the moocher’s sound
Doing pursuits
Driving the anti crime brigad crazy
Keeping an eye on the number plate
Driving the anti crime brigade crazy

2nd verse :
Wheelie, zilpock in the boxers
I switch gears in the sky, you like the sensation
I’ve got some bad and good frequentations
Two blues on me, I send a little kid at l’alimentation (??)
We cut on the bar of hash in order to smoke that good shit that slaps you, homie
They say that I show off, that I think I’m a mac, that I don’t live up to my sentences, but let’s pass on that
With blows from a baton, I’ll take them on, these faggots thaught that I was joking, joking
I drive the ant crime brigade crazy, hair blowing in the wind
I still don’t have any helmet, helmet
Yamaha side ways,I’m doing a wheelie, I can’t see in front, look out when traversing, baba
I swore on my grand father’s life that until the end, I would make a killing, baba
Yamaha side ways,I’m doing a wheelie, I can’t see in front, look out when traversing, baba
I swore on my grand father’s life that until the end, I would make a killing, baba

Chorus (x2)
Put on your ski mask
This is the moocher’s sound
Stolen car
This is the moocher’s sound
Doing pursuits
Driving the anti crime brigad crazy
Keeping an eye on the number plate
Driving the anti crime brigade crazy

3rd verse :
I’m breaking everything on the BPM
You disgust me, you and your demeanor
If we had to listen to you, I’m done, yet, I put all my fucking heart in this, I’m fighting my way through
I put my face muffler under the Arai
I sleep with the shotgun under the pillow
I can make you some rap, some pop, some Raï
I can say “wesh son of a” or “wesh Morray”
Wanted, people are under bullet proof
While praying to get a superbowl
I don’t care if with my clothes I walk alone
I keep my Quechua bag on my shoulders
If I want to, I’ll hire some little vatos
Y a La Quica in Narcos
I haven’t change, I’m defending my cause
My youths in Lacoste

Chorus (x2)
Put on your ski mask
This is the moocher’s sound
Stolen car
This is the moocher’s sound
Doing pursuits
Driving the anti crime brigad crazy
Keeping an eye on the number plate
Driving the anti crime brigade crazy

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