[Chorus 1]
I looked around, as if I was a castaway
I sat down to rest, as if I was a bird
I lit up my cigarette, as if it was the only one
And I felt free, as it I was Summer
I talked to myself, as if I was just dreaming
I hugged my family, as if it was the last one
I tightly closed my eyes, as if i was a king
And I followed my path, as if I was a vagabond
[Verse 1: Nach]
My heart stays in a fast, in a constant Ramadan
It's the dum-dum of the drum of the wizard of the clan
It's another written text, another cry
Another eruption of the volcano, and where will my words go?
Where will these people go?
With suits and ties, luxuries of platinum and crystal
Holding tight to their suitcases with a maternal instinct
Here there's no happy ending,absorbed in darkness, no applause
Just with serious gesture, attentive hate is the effect that I make
Double-H is my fetish, while the night exhausts me
Listen lady, don't reproach me
I'm no yupi or dandi, more like a junkie of calmness
So please calm down and drink some, smoke and escape
Flee side to side with the honest storyteller from the ruins
Let the verse act, penetrate and mark you
What I detest, I form it in manifestation
Between my bros, my dreams, and basketball games I grew up to be me
And 20 years is nothing, says the tango
That's why there's no medals or honors hanging over my chest
Like so, young, clever, and full of energy, looking for my place like a roaming cellphone
And what would I do to be rich?
And if I was rich, what would I do?For who would I kill, or for who would I die?
They're my fulfilled promises in the days I look for my life
I do rap without bragging, what'd you think, son?
It would be easy to boast and talk about myself, my ego, etc, etc
What's hard is to put the world on paper, rhyme at a tempo
Outsmart the time, to spit and make this rap a temple
It's to make your verse into a sword, for example
Like so more handicap after handicap
Wandering through my memory, my longed Belle Epoque
Tell me, is the world at your feet or on your shoulders?
The cars, the drugs, and the hoes make you lose yourself
I know of the secrets that you keep locked up in you
And that's because I had 2 mentors: Mr.Book & Mr. Streets
I looked around, as if I was a castaway
I sat down to rest, as if I was a bird
I lit up my cigarette, as if it was the only one
And I felt free, as it I was Summer
I talked to myself, as if I was just dreaming
I hugged my family, as if it was the last one
I tightly closed my eyes, as if i was a king
And I followed my path, as if I was a vagabond
[Verse 1: Nach]
My heart stays in a fast, in a constant Ramadan
It's the dum-dum of the drum of the wizard of the clan
It's another written text, another cry
Another eruption of the volcano, and where will my words go?
Where will these people go?
With suits and ties, luxuries of platinum and crystal
Holding tight to their suitcases with a maternal instinct
Here there's no happy ending,absorbed in darkness, no applause
Just with serious gesture, attentive hate is the effect that I make
Double-H is my fetish, while the night exhausts me
Listen lady, don't reproach me
I'm no yupi or dandi, more like a junkie of calmness
So please calm down and drink some, smoke and escape
Flee side to side with the honest storyteller from the ruins
Let the verse act, penetrate and mark you
What I detest, I form it in manifestation
Between my bros, my dreams, and basketball games I grew up to be me
And 20 years is nothing, says the tango
That's why there's no medals or honors hanging over my chest
Like so, young, clever, and full of energy, looking for my place like a roaming cellphone
And what would I do to be rich?
And if I was rich, what would I do?For who would I kill, or for who would I die?
They're my fulfilled promises in the days I look for my life
I do rap without bragging, what'd you think, son?
It would be easy to boast and talk about myself, my ego, etc, etc
What's hard is to put the world on paper, rhyme at a tempo
Outsmart the time, to spit and make this rap a temple
It's to make your verse into a sword, for example
Like so more handicap after handicap
Wandering through my memory, my longed Belle Epoque
Tell me, is the world at your feet or on your shoulders?
The cars, the drugs, and the hoes make you lose yourself
I know of the secrets that you keep locked up in you
And that's because I had 2 mentors: Mr.Book & Mr. Streets
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