Hugo TSR – Point de départ (English lyrics)

Intro :
– Have you already done this type of transfer ?
– Uh no, never anything as important as this. The only thing that I can’t stand, is their ramblings, when they started wilding out. Do you have any special instructions ?
– You do understand that the thing is a monster, and must not be underestimated
– Should we consider the “thing” as a man ?
– You don’t know what you’re saying
– You keep it a mystery hein ?
– Yeah
– Deep down, you hope that he’ll never be released ?
– Never, never, never

Verse :
I arrive when the street graffiti artists go to sleep
With a luck that is as loyal as Tiger Woods
I’m climbing up on stage, I lack space and my health is deteriorating
It’s not for the design that we hang our clothes out in the inside
Despite the satellite dishes, it’s hard to see further than your doorstep
We’re starving,
Lacoste tracksuit pants, too old school, I’m not in the trend
Traveling is expensive, in order to visit the Seychelles islands, I’ll have to mail myself at the post office
There’s some bicarbonate, youths that are breaking under pressure, no tropical vibe
Cold like a hospital, you start getting weird when you hang around at Pigalle too often
Love and fresh water, that’s not the strategy
We don’t have any of that in stock, ask for a kiss you’ll get slaps
My fangs are itchy, our kids are a problem to them, fuck Claude Guéant
I need myself some gloves now, there’s gonna be blood, I don’t care if the girls are dancing
Bitch ass world, who wants to hurt me ? Who wants my well being ?
We can no longer tell who is who, like a cop that is walking his dog
Why come back ? I’m already on the saddle
From the basement, I can no longer see the rainbow
My brains is making a run for it while kissing cancer candies
I often get lost, especially since Marine Le Pen
My rhyme angers you, but I need that whenever I take a look at my paycheck
Down for anything for the money, you keep an eye on her like she was your sister
Marx Dormoy, we’ve got toys to sell but this isn’t Toys’R’Us
The older guys shoot at each other for kilos, drug addicts stab each other for heroin
No time for eroticism, around here we dream about roasting the pigs
That’s my hobbie, I would like to see France in a pile of ashes
Not ready to surrender, even if my Bank account is at -400
Hard to wake up early, nothing but late owls, infernal youth
They only think on smoking joints, to them, Beethoven is a Saint-Bernard
Between two handshake, you have to get by, not beg
Despite the failure, but what can you ask for at the bottom of the ladder, I can only climb
Kids dream about it, What can I say, yeah they’re knocking down stairs
Cunts for days, I think that the landscaper had a broken eraser
For all the brothers, I lost at least ten of them
A little chorus ? Nah, I went too far
France is a giant scam, there’s only the bastards that didn’t die of hunger
No bandanna, I don’t do any gangsta rap, I don’t need any gun holder
There’s a lot of fakes, they’ve got Serge Benamou’s style
But on the boulevard, we spotted you, you were screaming “bébé l’Amour”
The instrumental, I’ll fuck it, prepare some fat rubbers
Such an ordinary swag, that when I open my mouth, everyone start scratching their heads
No pretexting, a little bloody, I’m defending my cause in France
The dream life is over for us, we’re depending on our kids
Don’t bring any whisky, I would be able to drink you ten tanks of those
In guise of starting point, I added a TSR 18ème

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