Dinos
Diptyque (English Translation)
[Unique Verse]

Yeah, yeah

I don't have a clean conscience but my pockets are full
In the hood there's snow but we don't know how to do bobsleigh
Either I live, I die or I hang around
Money is the best power of all, ask Bruce Wayne
I'm no ordinary person, born in the nettle
Back home, demons do not wait midnight to come out
No miracle, I don't want to hear what's right for me
Because I already know that I won't do what I'm told
I remember my first slap, my first bitch
I remember my first pussy
I remеmber my first bar
I remembеr my first fight, I promise
I remember
The times I would call late at night to talk about my pain
I remember everything, your smile, your tears, the laughs that we had
I don't understand how our love could rot
I remember that I wanted to be the strongest, I wanted
For you to remember my Tom Ford perfume
Or Comme des Garçons
So many ways to love me
We tore each other apart like dupes
Why are you afraid of me, you've got the same heart
I'm in front of your apartment, smells like turmeric
I told you I will move on but I swear that I did not
My hands were made for gold and they are in zirconium
Mirror, mirror, everything seems dark
I won't ask you any questions cause I don't want answers
Mirror, mirror, everything seems dark
I won't ask you any questions cause I'm afraid of the answers
Either the skies are bad
Or my vows can't be heard, or my angel has bad ears
I want to travel through time like a hieroglyph
Or travel around the coast, like a kilo of drugs
I learned to get up without any help
I learned to fly without any wings
I didn't learn to love without her
I'll always stay as the monster, I won't ever change
I'm still the monster
You won't hear me scream, you'll hear me pray
I'm doing ASMR with the cash machine
Yeah
Dark smoke keeps me from seeing
I keep on lying and disappointing
In the heat of summer, I'm cold
In forty-five minutes, I made three salaries
Smoke shield in front of the helmet
Leather gloves like I'm preparing a heist
I finish, I sing and take the money, the bitches, I leave
If I'm not in the A3, I'm in the Classe
So many hard moments to live
I'm away from home like the moms of Mali, or the diamonds from Zaire
On the moto, without a helmet like I'm fucking death
But here, it stinks so bad, it's not a metaphor
So many dead people on the floor, I think
I only walk with people like me
Money does not make the man, respect does
But here, we respect rich people, so open the safe