This is the end of the age, it's the end of the stage, pay in cash The years pass, the supporters are here, but they say that gold is useless They sleep on my bed with some purple ties, a well-oiled weapon Look at me, ***, my son will never be ruined I don't want to see him in the rap or in the mannequin Grilled head, yeah like Boumediene We grew up, we're not afraid anymore The devil knocks on my door when the curtains close And the night replaces the spotlights ***, ***, ***, *** the inspector and his grandmother the incest I'm preparing to do V3, I'm already thinking about the album I've just discovered where the world is, I'm already thinking about the grave I'm riding a pump seal, then I'm going north I'm a multimillionaire, down in Dinard I rap on the street like Jaskov, my producers are healed I'm in one of the PNL camps, the world where we look like Immigrants flee, crates of cash on CNN