Qui sème le vent, récolte le tempo [English translation]

A drum break-down flows on the FM

It mixes itself with my blood and makes a phenomenon of me

Strange, the sensitive cadence

5, 4, 3, 2, 1 tempo

The wind raises itself to say that it is my Karma

Then the cadence which leads me to Nirvana

Bewitching, the pact is sealed

The beauty of the body, without trying, is dancing

You treat me as a traitor when I treat the defeat of silence,

The silence is golden, but I chose the cadence

A wave, a cyclone, what the weather say?

He who sows the wind harvests the tempo (x2)

Each word, each phrase you say with emphasis

Done like MC Claude, the phrase commando

The tempo is king-like, in the musical arena

The reigns are mine, lexical bullfighter

The matador, nearly put to death, after the bodies and bodies

So make an effort, move your body more

We are in agreement, the times don't pass but I know who

Because the tempo is king.

The parameters are paranormal; say what? fuck everything!

MC Claude's here, anchored in the annals

For example: rock, salsa, the twist and reggae

Little by little without making a noise they lie down on one another

Because

He who sows the winds, harvests the tempo

In the name of the father, the son, and of MC Claude,

Solaar invites you to the rap party

Because I am an MC of attack, without habit, not an unauthentic fake

Quick to tap along to the beat of the hip-hop movement

Cost on cost, I listen and I taste

This aqueous solution which makes them happy

It's the fluid liquid rap created by a druid on speed

Who speeds off like a racing car to not be a flop

Attacking rap which hits, shows off, bombards and is crummy

"More blood", you shout out, I'm the Carpathinian MC

A real MC, authentic without panic,

Quick to tap along to the beat, so my friend listens carefully to this music

Because

He who sows the wind, harvests the tempo

The fashionable teacher under the code name of Solaar or MC Claude

Propose for you to listen to this

That we spell the vowels, that we ring the consonants

The music is good

I often take the time to go before

I don't waste a second, because time is money

Money doesn't bring happiness, does it bring unhappiness?

The key thing is to be at a level with everyone else

Not the moral in these words

He who sows the wind, harvests the tempo.