Rien à foutre [English translation]

The instrument charmed me, I got bluffed by the sound

I arrive armed, a 16mm hidden under the jacket

A perl or a rubin, Khey, ain't I right?

QB Style, okay let's avoid comparisions

The style punishes too much phases

Boy, don't mess

Tuni is the blaze

Origin: Val d'Oise* *in the suburbs of Paris

Walk aside, surrounded by few good people

Stress when the stars are coming, they speak rapping. Stop.

Hey! Ah ok, the caravan passes, the dogs are barking

Hunting dogs, coming to rap until it gets hot

A big finger for the state

Where? In the as*!

If not a big arm

War, a piece of wood

Boy I don't care nor about your way of thinking

To advance I got to get through stages

Zulu boy, zulu girl

Harbat, celette,

Mentalité je m'en bat lek,

I assume it means something like: I dont care about mentality, rap arabic style

Refrain x 2 :

Ooooo, I don't care

Ooooo, I don't care anymore

About what you could think

You'd like me to defend myself, I will answer:

Nananananana

I balance my art, my gold, my vocabulary

My suburban slang, big, nothing spectacular

And a burden, an example dreaming of dollars

A nail under the temple and my mouth is a hammer

Stress and landing improvision style

The MCs can't speak, they need a speech therapist

The French language is here on the street, there is too much

» Of "hush hush, you saw it, big"

And all alone or three of us, love for my brothers

My destiny between the fingers, that's all I can do

And in this move

really ???

I ain't like you, so you smash me, it seems like we're done

False friends.

A flase gang

A boy band

You have proof as an affirmation

Of that it seems like we're liars

Of that it seems like we're clowns

Of that it seems like Sniper is finished

I don't look like a mover

No bullet in the magazine

Just my middle finger

For the cab of rage

Ex smoker of chronicles

Looking for money

Rhyming on music

With a gleam of irony

Boy, I don't care ???

I don't give a f*ck ???

It seems like I talked about the head of state, it seems like I'm dead

In Tunis the police told me I'm not allowed in my hometown

It seems like I would play the great ???

I let go my ??? to go punch a bag

It would seem like I play the Rocco, unbeatable because Coco,

you sure saw my d*ck on a cellphone, a photo

One thing is sure, I'm straight

The bastards want to draggle us by sending around this video

So many rumours upset me

These as*holes want to kill me, I came to amputate the tumor

Oooooh Talk about us, good or bad

Oooooh Just the fact that you talk about us

Is already a success

Hey Narvalo, keep on sucking