NISKA - Allo Maitre Simonard (English lyrics)

Intro :
Tala squad
Bricki, Murda, Gucci
Yeyahhh
Allô, Maitre Simonard
Allô, Maitre Simonard
Allô, Maitre Simonard
A-a-a-a-a-a-allô

1st verse :
Loosen the hand cuffs, son of a bitch, loosen the hand cuffs
You wanna be a deep nigress, put hash in your panties
I’m gonna fuck shit up like Sankara or Lumumba
Like Luther King, Malcolm X or Mandela
10 kilos of that dope shit in the trunk of the Merco Benz, Audi A6
You’re in math class, I got brothers that came straight out of the criminal court
I’m not playing around anymore, I’m in the future now
Hasbah, there’s no customer service
Bendo bendo, we love violence
93, we love violence
Bricki, Murder, Gucci
A cop without a weapon : roasted chiken
I see, I see no competition, hashtag Pavarotti
I’m not gonna raise my son, thanks to the Tamagochi
Zifukoro de la B
They knew me, before I started rapping
Don’t try to act like a gangster, little brother
We’ve always been on the news

2nd verse :
Hello, Mister Diallo
How much is the dowry, tell me what’s the price ?
I’m soon gonna blow so I want a million euros
Like Brigi would say, tika massolo
Hustle, jail, lawyer, you walk back out like it’s nothing
From Sunday to Monday, at home, at night, I don’t sleep well
The game ain’t no game, look knuckle head
Closer to the holy Mecca than the Vatican
I don’t give a fuck if 5-0 comes, I gonna sell dope to the bums
Nostradamos, Charlie Delta, Vatos Locos
If I masturbate my gun, he’s gonna spit on you
I’m in the kitchen, I’m doing something for you
Honey, honey, I’m making euros and yet I never had any interim work
3 000 euros in one month I find that terrible, Knock out Ned, fuck Jacques Mesrine
Sil-fu, goro, de la beuh
They’ve known me, before I started rapping

Chorus :
But where are the real niggas ? Nothing but quiproquos
The real arabs, the deep niggas, who pay the lawyer
We wanna sell a kilo of coca
I wanna see the color of Coca run
Am stram gram, kilograms
I blow my money with Karim or Bram’s
My dick is also long, it’s not just my arm
A-a-a-a-a-allô Maître Simonard
But where are the real niggas ? Nothing but quiproquos
The real arabs, the deep niggas, who pay the lawyer
We wanna sell a kilo of coca
I wanna see the color of Coca run
Am stram gram, kilograms
I blow my money with Karim or Bram’s
My dick is also long, it’s not just my arm
A-a-a-a-a-allô Maître Simonard