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Pour Ceux [English translation]
Pour Ceux [English translation]
turnover timeļ¼š2024-11-02 09:33:38
Pour Ceux [English translation]

Rohff:

For those who move,

Not for those who shit on them,

Who hit them,

Even when the biggest walk over it,

For our sisters who will be tomorrow's mothers,

Wesh Wesh cousine, mafia K1 K1

For Kahlouch, Arbouch,

The Sinti who have a shady look,

Harcore even when in clogs,

Pour the social occasions where you need good grammar,

Who have gaps,

For the Tuaregs, the pirates of bitumen,

Who have more tree-stumps on the cost,

Who are shaky, scarred,

With an eye which is going to shit,

Always infront when there are shady goings-on there

Karlito:

Two envelopes in the urn, in one a "big-up" for the village,

In the other, a "big-up" for the council-house kids

It's for the guys with or without permission,

The smack in the box, the weed in the chest,

And 20 grammes of poppers,

Of carbon like a young Fresh for arrows,

200% addicts, too needy, clever and crafty,

Raise your middle finger good and high if you can smell me coming,

Samir and the dry and there the risky blow of leaving,

It's for the accompanying chicks,

Their "charming destinations" shaved,

Who glance towards us,

I show, the one-parent family

For the guys in my road who'd kill for a job

Rim'K:

It's for the Jean Valjean's, the crazies, the rich,

Who roll up in their BMW's with their orange hookers,

Who prowl, who cram their fag buts in the ashtray,

Whi have a gun which can make your skin waltz

To those who you like or those who knife you, who make you laugh or quake,

Those who make you laugh just so they can strangle you,

The fat fess, those who want Ken,

Or who fuck there in the middle of the week,

Wank to hardcore cartoons like Ken,

To the survivors of hard labour,

Who scan their towns, like guerillas,

To the dealers of weed and blow,

To those who will always be there for their families,

To those who love the real party, I won't speak to you of those who are M.I.A.

OGB:

Without weapons, holding back my tears like Kelly Joyce,

That which doesn't concern you then there immediately shuts down your poste,

Those who will have understood what life is when they die,

Life isn't a film where your area is the backdrop,

For those who know this and accept the unforgettable,

That lets our past go, these indelible things,

Those who are very early, accused the guys aside from on the bitumen,

Because of their attitude, it's because of the OGBitumen,

For those who pay their rent but back home see themselves as the propriataires,

I not going to spend my life playing with sparring partners

It's for them, but also for those who are annoyed by SSL

For those who want to do things banned by SACEM

Rohff:

For the social events which scare you, which make money

Always at the exact time in the transaction

Finalised on a transaction

Fat Pattaya supposedly who always has the bar

Who spends at the bar who rolls english

Tay for only a part

For the believers, the brave,

Who have a little culture, imatures

Raised on rice, on couscous, on hits with the belt

In the open class

The cleaner fathers

Fathers who work in cleaning jobs

In pain

For their children

Those whose pussies nor armpits smell

Who take care of them

Do the cooking and the washing up

Who are in a halal marriage

Hey, yo for the drivers of public transport, red

The stakes which roll on rolling chairs

Dry

C'est pour les mecs qui sortent le CBR quand il fait chaud

It's for the guys who leave the CBR when it's warm

Who squat in the bars, the balls of the estates

I rap for the undertakers

Those who are word their box or their coffin with a 12 coffin

For those who go out with the fit chicks, sticks in the summer sunshine

Chick in hand in the ghetto, winter and summer

Then the next, guys running

Following, running crimes even without drink

For those who for get high doing lines

And play on their PS2's all night to make themselves sleep

For those who screw the KO's in a pro way

It's the tarot cards all predicting the worst

AP

I rap for those who have thier bags ready to leave

Be it to embark or to go onto the streets with their piggybank

Those who do everything to not go hiking, the crazies

Those who accellerate, those addicted to weapons, who polish their guns

Or those who like to organise their meetings in the night

When you cross us stealing, you there

Bombard, it's Michael Night

Those who don't have the Internet

Watch all the goings on out their windo

The guys who aren't too clean

To those who wear ID bracelets

Who kiss their patrons

24/7 the state is indebted to us

To all those who sing our hymnes

You have a free hand

And all those who have pseudonymes

And who feel free

Manu Key

Let my dream team pass

We'll find the mic again

They're perhaps the most intimate moments

Finishing the "routine"

Fed up of being the victime

Because death has already mocked us

Like the jersey of Argentina

My rap is the captain

It's he who wears the armband

We're there to make the ghettos vibrate like Boissa did

We're harder for the most tender

For those who like gang-bangs

And those who like to gather en mass like in Thailand

If you've got a good idea, then go on, mate

For those who've never let go of the break or the Greek

Apart from that what did you want to say?

It's for the best and for the worst

For those who have the cainfri logo embroidered on their leather

Demon One

For the Kainfris

All those who bought Les Points Sur Les I

For those who've left

It's for my mate, L.A.S.

It's for those who vote,

Those who fight for their friends

Those who search for the jackpot

Those who've lost their friends on the street

Those, for those who suffer for the ghetto

For the hardcore guys

For all those who don't eat pork

For all those who sleep rough

Yeah, it's for the guys who fuck the system

You don't need to laugh with me

Rohff

For those who move,

Not for those who shit on them,

Who hit them,

Even when the biggest walk over it,

For our sisters who will be tomorrow's mothers,

Wesh Wesh cousine, mafia K1 K1

For Kahlouch, Arbouch,

The Sinti who have a shady look,

Harcore even when in clogs,

Pour the social occasions where you need good grammar,

Who have gaps,

For the Tuaregs, the pirates of bitumen,

Who have more tree-stumps on the cost,

Who are shaky, scarred,

With an eye which is going to shit,

Always infront when there are shady goings-on there

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