[Verse 1]
Oh! Sefyu! What kind of car do you drive, calculate
How much do you make, who's your girl, who are you driving around
Still 9-3 or have you changed your registration?
Why don't we ever see your face on film?
I have the album in the weights room, I kill myself with it in my cell
It speaks to me when my future seems written in lower case
I'm here because of the 2-3 scoundrels who turned on me
Incredulous before the judge, they screwed me
Do you remember me? The one who had Sefyu written on his sweater
That even rolled a joint, filmed while speaking nonsense
I'm writing to you because my brother is running where the bullets were
I better understand "Am I my brother's keeper" in retrospect
Because young people are in the Matrix, the capsule
And because a murder is not reimbursed by social security
Money is not worth a man, trust me
My wife was pregnant when they gave me my sentence
Her father had told her I was not a good man
But she would not listen, always had my back
My son is orphaned as I'm writing this
Right now my father is in the hospital
A surgical intervention has become essential
At the thought he might not make it, my face is white with fright
Prisoner, I've sealed my fate
Here people commit suicide to make sure they're really dead
My eyelids lower the balcony awnings
With my body I slipped off the edge because they screwed me for my wrongs
Don't worry religion is holding me back
Cut my veins on the edge of a sardine can, of course not cousin!
All right Zehef I'm out, be well
Continue to represent wallah that you're a good guy
P.S. Pass the peace to G8
I was told that you did concerts in prisons
If frankly on occasion you could dedicate me 2-3 t-shirts
You see it's for my son, you see his name is Ryan
It would make me really, really happy Sef'
Frankly you see I thank you for everything Sef'
Thank you
[Verse 2]
Oh! What's up Molotova! What kind of car do you drive? A 7Q?
How much do you take, who's your girl? What's your experience?
Still 9-3? Or have you changed your registration?
Tell me why you always hide your eyes on film
I'm writing to you live from Dakar, stopover from hell
I fled France because of the carriage
I went through Algeria, I landed in Mali
Traveled the rest of Bamako Saly by taxi
I'm black like them
But they call me the Frenchman here, what a shame
I do not get the language and my parents were born here
Their looks scrutinize me, as if I was not from their homeland
One thing goes wrong and they repatriate me
Shopkeepers want to extort me
Because of my accent that doesn't pronounce the "Rrrr"s that stink like Camembert
Yesterday my cousin told me, "How's it going little white guy?"
No answer, I left there a white man
My ass isn't stuck between two chairs, I have a chair stuck up my ass
My uncles think that in Europe we have no excuse
My cousins believe that the suburbs are not a taboo
Of African ethnicity, but really I'm a white guy
The Moroccan justice wants bills
The Senegalese police looted me
The Oran customs shocked me
Because a French passport is synonymous with "to shine"
Since my arrival I experienced hazing
My suitcase robbed as if taken hostage
I saw my clothes disappear while they were drying
My cap, socks, sneakers being worn by the neighbourhood! (Hehe!)
No worries, it's my pleasure
All right Sef' as usual come out with a damn album that will tear it up
P.S. You see Sef', here
We don't have bars, you see I don't have bars
But I'm locked up psychologically, you see
It's like I was in a prison, you see
But a prison, outside what, you see
But never mind, you see it doesn't matter
We have many cousins who dig you here
If you could send two hats to No. _ in building No. _
Frankly it would really be a pleasure
Thank you Sef'