Thé À La Menthe

Young, I remember a 'Mrs. Nicole' teacher who thought an Arab wasn't meant for school! I wore a worn velvet, red plastic boots, a wool balaclava, a sweater or 'Play-Basket'. The hairdresser didn't even know I existed! But be sure the first one who saw us backed off! Yet young and innocent, with snot on our noses without Kleenex, we hang out in the sandbox with our 'Shabs' and our ideas to vandalize even without knowing it! Our parents didn't care so we wander aimlessly! According to our neighbors, big racists, I clarify, we were poorly raised and their German Shepherds better trained! I don't believe it, I never did because parental is the only love I've ever had! So not to get angry, what puts me in trouble: the virtues of 'Naanaa' hence mint tea!

[HI-TEKK]

First slum era, clandestine atmosphere in a bar in Barbès: mint tea, couscous and tagines on the menu. No more scopitones for Mouloud and Saïd AbdAllah. With a bad accent, no salamaleks from Hassan the athlete, from Algeria, from Hollywood to Tamanrasset. No more mint tea, just bitter words! Like a mental patient, I have a headache, I run in stan-smith adidas, 501 jeans, it's okay I don't care! Here it's like an attack, for a few more dozens, there are carnages in the air. This France disintegrates me: the Arab is classified as a wobbly barbarian! Screw the culture of barbecue, steak, and fast food! In the homeland, it's the djellaba and sandals, from Oujda to Casablanca, it's common at the bottom of the neighborhood, I'm bored and I'm worth nothing. It scars at the bottom of my hall, my sorrow and joy merge, and that's all that remains of our cultural heritage!

[NIKKFURIE]

An adolescence 'Nastase and 501, Pento, funk cassette and dad in a 505'. But came the word 'Problem' with a capital P, in front of which everyone trembled or got involved! After innocence, pessimism set in, faced with incandescence, the right path curved! I reached out to him and happiness cramped me, like 'only money and honor can make me real'! But here, you can be accused of things that if you had done: you would hang yourself! They need an Arab, a Black, whatever you want, in short, something concrete! We were lucky to never take ourselves seriously... Rubbing shoulders with vice without ever taking the perilous leap. Shaping our lives far from the leap of the angel... In school, us vultures, against Baudelaire's albatross! We found ourselves in rap against all real expectations... The recipe: Sampling, pen, and mint tea!