B.B. Jacques
B.B. Jacques-Carte postale (English translation)
[Lyrics to "Postcard"]

Dignity and culture

[Verse 1]
Overbooked like the dance teacher, 2K22 the stats are surprising
Midnight in Paris, what pochtar? I think it's Woody’s
Hram flowers in Serge's mouth
Don't confuse Paname and its postcard
The tracklist on 4 post-its
A golden, an ice-tea green
They are beautiful the smiles of our women, fuck
We have to take care of our daughters
On a stroke of kidney we can redo our lives
They would abuse it
If I affirm my faults, for the moment I remain calm and I’m-who is that
The features of his face, which my pen sketched

[Bridge]
Well yeah, I've done the job so far
Well yeah, I've done the job so far

[Verse 2]
Champagne and cigar
In business management double the positions like in Man City
Yet another scar, a new stitch
The station is about to go out
A pink sky takes care of its hues
Rap is not dead but on the verge of dying out
Champagne and cigar
In business management doubles positions like Guardiola
Yet another scar, a new stitch
The station is about to go out
A pink sky takes care of its hues
Rap is not dead but on the verge of dying out
About to die out
[Verse 3]
At night I write suns, as soon as dawn keeps its promises I draw 16s
May God forgive me, I'm reaching for a sign from heaven
If I'm right, say nothing, blink
There's only the rain that I saw coming down from the sky
Once you've gone up, you have to come down, you know
And when you get fucked it's by the closest ones
I didn’t wait for the peu-ra to leave with the freshest
Fuck off, NBOW Records we reissue, we smoke you wAllah
Paname is not Tijuana, there are no cques-Ja in Bolivia
Investment: I perpetuate it, I prolify it

[Bridge]
Hey, go ahead and roll your mess
Hornet manages your buzz, go roll your mess
Hornet manages your buzz, go roll your mess
Hornet manages your buzz

[Verse 4]
Check, I wake up at 6:06, at the stud I show up at 3 p.m
I arrive alone when they show up at 15
She wants to fuck, meet at 17, she shows up at 15
I’m with Pense, soon I'll reverse the kich’
I take the wheel, I'm drunk, I knock over deer
The cques-Ja is not Orel but marlich fixes the bases
We meet at Georges V, fuck the Ibis
B.B. Jacques FC, on Twitter just that jacte
The bigo, just it sounds, I'm going to make a big SACEM again
On the back of others who sink
I'm in a big mess but I mustn’t talk about it
When there are plenty of cops, there are plenty of gendarmes
I invited them when I had no gent-ar
Peu-fra attacks the gums
If there's teush for Hervé, there's some for Jean Yves
Last time I screwed up, I was too nice
For the moment I leave too many MCs alive
Even if you take out the sum, you won't have me in feat
We won't love you alive, we won't make you want to open Lanvin
Did you catch it? For the moment I leave too many MCs in sight
You take out the sum, fuck off, you don't have me in feat
We won't love you alive, we won't make you want to open Lanvin
Only for envy, I didn't write that in vain
A woman on a Parisian sidewalk annoys me
The sun at 8:43 a.m
The condé thinks I'm drunk, asks me how much is 8x3
A prayer and 12 fatwas
Hey, go ahead and roll your mess
Hornet manages your buzz