Quand je partirai [English translation]

When I leave don't come and cry on my grave, how many are sincere?

How much drama, real clusterfucks, how many false brothers?

When I was in the shit, how many reached out their hand?

Never put off until tomorrow what you can do with one hand

Already back then, I was envied for a hairclip

I'm hitchhiking on the road to Heaven and only the Devil will stop

Trappes Cemetery, in little teams, don't bring back too many demons

We live between angels and demons, how many know my name?

When I leave, tell my family that I love them

That solitude is my thing, I have a hard time saying "I love you"

When I leave, tell my dealer he's unemployed

Funny kind of guy, no need to pay me homage

Tell my real friends that friendship lasts forever

That I was bad at math cause when you love you never count

You'll tell the prison guards that fear made me change my air

That Morocco is my pride and I prefer to eat on the ground

No regrets, I've lived life to the fullest

A landowner on the field is worth 10 jealous talkers on the bench

When I leave, tell my dad that it's pointless to cry

Tell my daughter that prayers will replace her letters

Tell my teachers I don't give a shit if I didn't get their diplomas

Tell the jealous ones this album will surely weigh 10 tons

When I leave, you'll send me greetings to the Congo

You'll tell them that they eat well there, you'll thank Togo

Cameron and Algeria, Canada, Djibouti

I'll have maybe one regret, to not see the public of Mali again

I'll leave my head high, my girl, don't listen to people!

I have memories of Dakar, a few brothers in Abidjan

When I leave, competition can come out of it's hole

And only once it's buried, you'll be able to take it's pulse

I won't be far, I'll always be in the heart of the family

Of a few destroyed fans, some sisters of the Antilles

When I'm no longer here, you'll tell some false brothers who deceived me

That I don't have a beautiful pen, just a shitty living!

Lived, the years pass and I see things getting worse

Lord, have pity the day that I leave

When I leave, some false brothers will pretend to be let down

Want to roll with me, before they would have walked on me

Tell my fans that I'm crazy about them, that I was nothing without them

That my life, it hurts, and there's no smoke without fire

Big up to Fred Musa, same to Pascal Cefran

Another anti-FN rap on your FM

When I leave, some bastards will send their condolences

where were they when the bills were coming due?

Where were they when the Restos du Coeur served the master?

Where were they when the bailiffs took the armchair in the living room?

Where were they when, eyes wet, Mom lacked cash?

Were they there in solitary, with suicidal thoughts?

Years pass, too much shit, and I see things getting worse

Lord, have pity the day that I leave

Yeah, the day I live, I'll bring nothing with me

No apartment, no jewelry, no car

I never rapped for that shit anyway

And that, the real ones know since my first album

When I leave, the the only thing that will be important for me

Is that I hope I'll have the time to say:

"Achhadou an lâ ilâha illa-llâh, washadou ana muhammad rasûlu-llâh"

And I want to hear it sung... Fouiny Babe!

I want to year you sing

Success generates enmity Fouiniy, it makes enemies

Your success turns against you!

What do you want to do, kill your success?

You would rather have not succeeded?

It's not complicated, where we succeed and make some enemies

Or we miss our shot, and we make some friends

It a question of choice