Fabricant de gunoi [English translation]

I'm a creator of trash with new ideas

I act like a pig when I'm surrounded by bulls

I keep clean money next to dirty socks at the bank

Spend dirty money and didn't think that

I sing rap better than Michael fucks kids

And I can celebrate an exceptional failure

I'd live a thousand years and it still wouldn't be enough

And I bloat up when my belt is on too tight

You're tore in half by work or tore in half in your valve

I grew a gill on my cock, come breathe underwater

You're ashamed and listen to my music with the window closed

You've got the blood pressure of a corpse, let me take you to Paradise

You lick your lips when I release new propaganda

Like a streetwalker irradiated by hunger

We are telepathic, my cock hurts (Not caring) when your throat hurts

And what I sing, when I sing, is quite ugly

I'm a creator of trash with new ideas

I watch you while smiling with my eyes cloudy and empty

In my few moments of lucidity

I think it's ideal for you to have no purpose

I dream of clapping cheeks through the sound of an pipe orga

Wake the fuck up, hoe, we are at the morgue

You were sucking my cock, I was thinking of someone else

I jumped in the truck when I avoided the puddle

This shitty white light, I don't like

So stay the fuck here, rest in peace

I'll go back on the streets once again hungover

I've got unclean thoughts and my underpants hardened on my ass

I swear on the light of your glassy eyes

That nobody knows me, not even you do

My psyche is unstable, it's actually soup

It makes me hold a conversation with myself for days

I wish you all for the priest to burp at your head

And for your wives to leave flip-flop marks on your backs

I can still fit in my skin, limited edition,

Because my musical garbage is clean stuff

I'm a creator of trash with new ideas

I watch you while smiling with my eyes cloudy and empty

In my few moments of lucidity

I think it's ideal for you to have no purpose