CENZA (L’UZINE – Sur les p’tits acte II (English lyrics)

[Introduction]
Zzzzzzzz…
L’uZine
On the youth
On the youth, On the youth, On the youth
On the youth, On the youth, On mayor’s youth
On the youth, On the youth, On mayor’s youth
On mayor’s youth
On the youth
On the youth, On the youth, On mayor’s youth
On the youth, On the youth, On mayor’s youth
On mayor’s youth
On the youth
[I guess in means I swear on the youth’s head, as I swear on my mom’s head]

[Sample ]
« You have nothing of a bad boy, out there there are real bad boys who one day are going to kick your little innocent ass. You don’t come from the street, I come from the street. And only those who doesnt know what is it need to glorify it »

[Verse1]
One-two, one-two, mic, test, on the youth, I got so many bullshit to tell
So I keep my mouth shut, keep looking at me like cops
In Rap I come without taking my shoes off and without luggage
Little face [pretty face, not translatable but means homie] I arrive on stage like a streetfighter in the cage
Navigating in buildings, challenging cops and the hidden BAC [anti-criminality brigade]
Living law, my ears don’t hear them because they know that they’re lying.
Bastards smear without be setting off, follow them when Paris is singing
Don’t slip on the ink drop, it’s too dirty

I’m only one of the white dudes from Montreuil-Sous-Bois [near Paris, 93], trust me if you think you strike down you’re crazy.
Listen and be scared, 93 100 tell them
My city is making chineurs [slang, bergain hunters] because there are less customers than dealers.
Bring me the money, I handle thousands words
Eenie Meenie Miney Moe

My voice coming from the underground, breaking ice like flint
I can rap all my life, my rhymes fade away with Tipp-Ex
Rap makes look handsome or rather the celebrity, ask Rambo
Like my father says I was rocked too close to the wall
Enjoy, I also burn the sun’s syllabes
And [with] the moon they merge without any meeting to hide my liters of rhymes in deep anus
You can copy me, shot me with a shotgun, clamping on shotgun or burry me rock bottom.
Listen son, I cut the hatch, you spin around like a spinning top, piece of hash, browsing small trifles.
I don’t rap for fangirls
I sow my seed, drain my veins with so much hate, taking me even my dreams are taking me to harassment

[Bridge]
On the youth
Wha ? What ?
What do you want ? You want to act like a narvalo ? [Montreuil slang, acting crazy, stupid]
Hey I fuck you son of a …
Come here son of bitch, hey, I’m going to fuck you, hey, I’m going to fuck you son of bitch [means hit, beat, kick, punch]
Hey I fuck you son of a …
Come here son of bitch, hey I fuck you, Hey I’m going to fuck you son of bitch
Come here son of bitch, you want to do this here ?!
Hey I fuck you, your fucking race [nothing really race-related but its an insult in France]
Come on, come here …
Come with everybody, hey I fuck you, I fuck you all bunch of sons of bitches
Bunch of sons of bitches.

[Verse 2]
On the youth, his mom [slang expression] I got two hands in the bag, many transactions
Law and the poor don’t lie down on the same deckchair
I challenge, live my life, empty my bile [or ball for his pen], writing at night
L’uZine for ever, we’re monitoring all like illuminatis.
Ah ! Talented za-Cen killing it, it’s obvious we want to touch success, let him give me a sign
I guess there is a ball [testicle] in the marchandiser [french expression « there is a ball in the pâté » means there is something wrong]
Ask Michael we don’t become a popstar by staying black
We don’t become rapgods by staying white
I run out on you and go home joking, hearing MC’s pretending
I stay with my crowd or I roam about, nachave on my own [montreuil slang, means going away]
Are you hearing the resonating Z of the proliferating sect ?
On the mayor’s youth, you’re green [means envious, jealous]
L’uZine, nuclear strikes
Grass joint, all green
I smoke in a gun’s canon
Better not be bullets but sentences that I start shooting
I see the head scarf and the evil one luring me, it’s …
It’s za-Cen, murdering easily the pen, pile up the bars of fragile rhymes, skillfuly.
Marching along cities or quickly in the crowd
Dodge the cops, hey, idiot put my name in the queue if I lie
Ah ! Don’t look forward, my little face
Tongues loosen up, say it and I bring out my fangs, don’t let a youth alone
I grind alone my Sativa Haze, my kind, I’m on space
Money weighs, I got enough to make everybody peacefull
On the youth you’re green, when I take the mic there are no more « tralali lalala »
I fuck rap by loving it, contradictory elements and even more annoying
On the youth, this is shit, burry the bars, father would throw the stones at me
On the yout, it’s like on my life, that’s life, not easy in my town, Ah !
I break my balls [means I don’t care] of the trend beacause the Cenz’ is rigged
I have to keep my flow holder as if I am holding a gun
I shiv, letting blood spill on rhymes in the street not on a ring
On the youth, don’t stay around l’uZine, bunch of faggots

[Outro]
On the youth
On the youth
On the youth, On the youth, On the youth
On the youth, On the youth, On the mayor’s youth
On the youth, On the youth, On the mayor’s youth
On the youth, On the youth, On the mayor’s youth
On the youth, On the youth, On the mayor’s youth
On the youth, On the youth, On the mayor’s youth
On the mayor’s youth
On the youth

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