Quand je partirai [English translation]

When I'm gone don't come and weep above my grave, how many are sincere?

How many tragedies, real hard tasks, how many deceitful brothers?

At times when I really found myself sunk in shit, how many had held my hand?

Never postpone for tomorrow what can be done at hand

Alredy at that time, they envied me because of a hair clip

I would auto-stop on Paradise street and no one but the Devil would stop

Cemetery of Traps, in a small group, don't bring back much of demon

We live between angels and demons, how many of them know me by name?

When I'm gone, tell my family, that I love them

That I have a thing for solitude, and I found it hard to say ''I love you''

When I'm gone, let my dealer know that he's unemployed

Having had a fun personality, I don't need anyone to pay hommage to me

Say to my true friends that friendship goes on about forever

That I was hopeless at Maths because when you love you never count

You say to prison wardens that fear made me have a change of air

That I am proud of Morocco and I prefer to eat straight form the earth

No remorses, I've had a full life

A title holder on the pitch equals to ten enraged people speaking from the bench

When I'm gone, tell my father there is no point in crying

Tell my daughter her prayers are going to replace the letters

Tell my professors that I would be indifferent towards nothing, hadn't I gotten their diplomas

Tell the enraged people this album will for sure weigh ten tons

When I'm gone, you will pass my greetings all the way to Congo

You will tell them we eat well here, you will thank Togo

Cameroon and Algeria, Canada Djidouti

I will maybe be troubled with a single remorse: not having seen again the people of Mali

I'll be gone holding my head high, my daughter, don't listen to the people!

I have the memories of Dakar, of a couple of Abidjan brothers

When I'm gone, rivalry may well get out of its pothole

And only once burried, you can measure its pulse

I won't be away, I will always stay in the heart of my family

Of some crushed fans, of some sisters from the West Indies

When I'm no longer there, you tell a couple of brothers they have let me down

That I don't have a nice feather, I have nothing but a bloody life experience

Having lived them, years pass by and I see things worsening

Lord, have pity on me the day I'll be gone

When I'm gone specific fake brothers will pretend to be let down

They will want to be on my side, when previously they would step on top of me

Tell my fans that I'm mad about them, that I I would be nothing without them

That life, life can hurt you, and that where smoke is there is always fire

Give a big up to Fred Musa, Pascal Cefran, it's all the same!

One more anti-FN rap on your FM

When I'm gone, certain bastards are going to express their condolences

Where had they been when the due date of the bill arrived?

Where had they been when the Restaurants of Heart served the patron?

Where had they been when the bailiffs took the armchair out of the living room?

Where had they been when Mother's watery eyes ran out of liquid?

Where they there in solitary confinement, desiring to commit suicide?

The years pass by, wholly crap, and I see things worsening

Lord, have pity on me the day I'm gone

Yeah, the day I'll be gone, I'll take nothing with me

Neither appartement, nor jewellery or car

I've never rapped this way for this shit

And this, the real fans know it since my firts album

When I'm gone the only significant thing to me

will be the hope of finding the time to say:

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

And I want to hear singing...Fouiny Babe!

I want to hear you singing...

Success, generates hostilities Fouiny, it creates enemies:

Your success turns against you!

What are you going to do, kill your success?

You'd rather not be successful?

It's not complicated, you either succeed and have a couple of enemies

Or you let slip your shot, and make some friends

It's a matter of choice...