Genius English Translations - Booba - Inédit (English Translation) Lyrics
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    Booba - Inédit (English Translation)

    [Booba - Inédit/ English Translation]

    [Intro]
    Who said I wouldn't make it, did not believe me, hasn't help
    It's B2O, do you remember me, faggot...

    [Verse 1]
    Let them boycott my sound, we got their ass in the sonar
    Watch out, pigs went out hunting the mollah Omar
    Son, don't mix F1 and karting
    We ain't back in display units 'cause we never quit
    Politics, is nothing but a stray dogs orgy
    From oblivion comes a giant, I'm the good and the bad news
    Tha sound comes from tha Benz, yours from the dumpster
    You know it, it's 92, the H.Q sound
    Drunk when listening my sound, my song you wanna live?
    You wanna test Paris? Wesh dawg what's up with you?
    The suburbs are dangerous, you're right to shit yourself
    The Policе can't do shit, the world goes down the pan
    Mе I release CDs anytime I want, duck, clear off in jet, push in
    It's Lunatic, Doum's, M.O. clique
    And if your brat, don't lace his coke with water
    It ain't B-2-O's fault, nor the one of Pablo

    [Chorus]
    Word up, they wanna use my technique, sofly screw me over
    That's for those who boned up, for those who aimed the head
    Pilotless, kingless, check I reach the top AC-less
    Tough to conceve life without crime, team, billions of centimes
    A rap imitated, plagiarized, turned cool
    In turn, lots of fake MCs got their neck torn-down
    It was fire, there would be gold said the marabout
    For the guys from the concrete, the pen from the ratholes

    [Verse 2]
    I got told what matter is the gesture, sometimes I want to quit
    Ok, I stay to prevent them from cashing in
    I injure, trading with an undertaker in the show-business
    You just got out of jail? Yeah, cool, greet me on the cheek mate
    Don't read the guest-list, let me pass kid
    Hoes in the Porche, straps in the pockets
    Little granny, hold your purse tight, I'mma make a brat
    Don't resist, you crush on my west burb sista
    And if your boyfriend has a PhD
    Me you know me, I'm only good at rapping, at doggystylin' the law
    All of a sudden, independance beat records
    Fuck, all of a sudden, my hardcore became gold
    No doubt about the department, reap what you sow
    Me, it's hatefulness I taught, Hauts-de-Seine projects
    Who said I wouldn't make it, did not believe me?
    It's B2O, do you remember me, faggot?

    [Chorus]
    Word up, they wanna use my technique, sofly screw me over
    That's for those who boned up, for those who aimed the head
    Pilotless, kingless, check I reach the top ACless
    Tough to conceve life without crime, team, billions of centimes
    A rap imitated, plagiarized, turned cool
    In turn, lots of fake MCs got their neck torn-down
    It was fire, there would be gold said the marabout
    For the guys from the concrete, the pen from the ratholes

    [Verse 3]
    I caught crime on the fly, deep-seated anger
    Don't hop out armed with a paintball, over here, we steal then we sell
    Me, I left school for the pen, I stroke with strikes
    My brothers, they go in and out gruting
    My rap smells millions, pastas with onion
    In any case me, I'm the one who said "No, go suck your mom"
    Whisky below the armpits, looking at the sky while pissing
    I make cash cogitating about the CL 600
    New bodywork, it's Kopp on the micro
    Nigga, it's brand new style, new school, new era, new deal
    Ala belleck, new missile, dawg, new homicide
    Drop the dirty bills in the basin, quick!
    I'd be kosher if I died the throat sliced
    Brothers, take off the syringes of your arteries, go burst the charter's tires...
    Who said I wouldn't make it, did not believe me?
    It's B2O, do you remember me, faggot?

    [Chorus]
    Word up, they wanna use my technique, sofly screw me over
    That's for those who boned up, for those who aimed the head
    Pilotless, kingless, check I reach the top ACless
    Tough to conceve life without crime, team, billions of centimes
    A rap imitated, plagiarized, turned cool
    In turn, lots of fake MCs got their neck torn-down
    It was fire, there would be gold said the marabout
    For the guys from the concrete, the pen from the ratholes

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