[Lyrics to "Fuck Off"]

[Intro]
Shit c'rap listeners
Fuck off

[Verse 1]
Cques-Ja, it's a character, askip, I fuck you, nothing personal
Twenty-four hours of sounds, a shoot, I work
Come, let's enjoy before everyone knows it
I could triple my stats in one call; become a re-sta, it's without me
Focus on the looks that are exchanged
I recognize the happiness in the noise it makes when it escapes
A jacket around the hips, when her tights tear
At three-fifty, the strawberry on her dеssert
I've always had what I want
I finish the calu' whilе she strips off
There's KX calling proud of him, it seems that the mix is good
I slalom, we phone each other, between couples who love each other who strut their stuff
Second album, still no office, I have to scratch on the pavement
On a whim, I put you on a white horse
Before you parade in Milan for Gucci
Go see you, fuck off, I needed a good piece of hash
But it would do me a lot of good
But first, there are concerts, there are crowds
If I sign, there are crazy gains
I don't have time to drink pints anymore, I don't have time to believe tins anymore
And often the biggest boobs are most guys
Loving each other was the biggest step
LNSC, PDP, it's much more than 'tapes
WAllah, there will be physics
We work in the worst settings while drinking in the most beautiful bottles
And what do you do when there are two of them and it's the prettiest one who cuts?
I'm staying outside since I have nowhere to go, let's keep it simple, where were you?
I write on the way that leads to the stud', tonight, the night will be beautiful
It's like something that I feel once the moon is full
[Chorus]
Paris is empty, I take advantage of it
I'm more into art than profit
More on Paname than on Deauville
I have to write, I go around the Porte Dauphine three times
Even in the jungle, there are rules
Bro, belek to your dreams, uh, belek to your dreams
More on Paname than on Deauville
More in art than in profit
I have to write
Three times, I go around the Porte Dauphine
In the jungle, there are rules
Big, belek to your dreams

[Verse 2]
It seems that it's not profitable, a Bercy, we launch an opera
A glass of Sancerre with thirteen bullets, I perform
Like a bug who fucks from his thirteen years
Superstitious like Jérôme Rothen, I always tear off the last one when I write thirteen pages
Don't worry, when I write, don't stress
The team is worthy, don't worry, fuck
And even after all that, I can't pretend that I said everything
When I was little, we dreamed of me vicos
I'll talk about these sons of bitches a little later, there, I have to call Sony back from Nico's then
I don't sleep anymore, you better get up early if you want to fuck me
I can redo two sounds in two hours
I don't give a fuck, Jacques ACTU, you can leak
You can leak
[Chorus]
Paris is empty, I take advantage of it
More in art than in profit
More on Paname than on Deauville
In the jungle, there are rules, believe in your dreams
Even in the jungle, there are rules
Big, belek to your dreams
More on Paname than on Deauville
More in art than in profit
Even in the jungle, there are rules
Big, belek to your dreams

[Outtro]
LCS, cques-Ja
Fuck off
We reissue, we kiss you, wAllah
PDP, Netflix