style libre [English translation]

Let me write just to heal my soul

Exorcise into art what some would call [my] gob

A piece of paper to turn my sorrows into songs

Strangely they said to me, Come off it! Luck’s in the slammer…

Me, I beat it. Here rhymes are on the attack

There’s talk of ‘top of the class’ mistaking rap for an art school

The pen’s my weapon, my art’s my lungs

What my heart says to me I transcribe verbatim

So excuse me if sometimes I sound scathing

But this world’s only a story where bit players get lost

Look at the slaughter out there, no need for metaphors

So into the mike I roar like a megaphone

Listen. I only have my ideas to shape my future

I swim to it. I'm not one to take a ship to get away

With a mike I’m off delighted, quick before my soul gets wound up

Cuz only hatred is being pushed in my city

Let me write before dying from within

The pen’s my weapon to kill my inner suffering

I see boredom which is laughing for no reason and will marry

my madness if I drown in its tidal wave

signing my death warrant. But don't fret

I keep walking, barefoot cuz shit’s sticking to my shoes

You seen the times? Their sickness can’t be read on tarot cards

My good health is of course my buddies, and when unwell

I still land on my feet

I don't care for this drift and all those nasty mockers

Mind your own plate. I comfort those people dear to my heart

I leave you amongst lunatics, so ‘enjoy your meal, folks’

Eat one another up while I watch you racing

I'm not here for the title

If rap turns into a show I quit

but if a mike goes around I dig it

This world is sick and I clamour it to the point of losing my voice

Cuz content is an abyss even if they’ve disguised form

[I’m] born into a world which has turned all of us insane

So let me write to better fight my demons

Who rise and from my memory emerge. Help me!

I’ve only got my pen to heal my wounds and lighten my burden

From concrete, I want to touch the stars and I'm hearing that wind

Which warns me that routine freezes us, that we must leave the ice floe

[I’m] already worn out cuz peace dies in the dock

Do you understand why my rap is in this disillusioned light?

I didn't hedge, I went right into rap

I live and I’ll take whatever life handles me

I shout, perhaps too much to your taste?

You so tied down to the System you no longer see the rope round your neck

There are too many pits, look, for too few solid bases

Thanks to gallons of poison we bear with our quaint lives

It’s all a bloody mess and the times force you to be a part of it

You’re forced to possess when nothing’s ever gained