Qand Je Partirai

It's 5 o'clock in the morning
When I leave, don't come cry at my grave. How many are sincere?
How much drama? How much struggle? How many fake brothers?
When I was really in deep shit, how many lent me a hand?
Never put off till tomorrow (two hands) what can be done with one hand
Already back then, they envied me for a clip
I hitchhike on the road to paradise and only the devil stops
(?) In a small team, don't bring too many demons
We live between angels and demons
How many know us by name?

When I leave, tell my family that I love them
That my thing is solitude, that I struggle to say I love you
When I leave, tell my dealer he's out of a job
Funny character, no need for tribute
Tell my real friends that friendship lasts forever
That I sucked at math because when you love, you never count
Tell the guard that the street life changed my air
That my pride is Morocco and I prefer eating on the ground
No regrets, I lived fully

A starter on the field, those little haters talking on the bench
When I leave, tell my father that there's no point in crying
Tell my daughter that her prayers will replace the letters
Tell my teachers that I don't give a damn if I didn't get their diplomas
Tell the haters that this album will surely weigh 10 tons
When I leave, you'll pass on the greetings to Congo
You'll tell them the food is good there, thank Togo
Cameroon and Algeria, Canada, Djibouti

I might have one regret, not seeing the crowd in Mali again
I'll leave with my head held high, my daughter, don't listen to people
I have memories of Dakar, of some brothers from Abidjan
When I leave, the competition can come out of hiding
And only once buried, you can take its pulse
I won't be far, I'll be forever in the family's heart
Of some devastated fans, of some sisters from the Caribbean

When I'm no longer here, tell some brothers they disappointed me
That I don't have a beautiful pen, just a damn life experience
The years go by and I see things getting worse
Lord have mercy the day I leave
When I leave, some fake brothers will pretend to be disappointed
Want to ride with me, before they would have stepped on me
Tell my fans I'm crazy about them, that I was nothing without them
That life hurts and there's no smoke without fire
Big up to Fred Musa, Pascal Sevrant, it's the same

Another anti-FN rap on your radio
When I leave, some bastards will give their condolences
Where were they when the bills were due?
Where were they when the food banks were helping dad?
Where were they when the bailiffs took the armchair from the living room?
Where were they when tears welled up, mom short on cash?
Were they there in solitary with a desire to die?
The years go by, damn it, and I see things getting worse
Lord have mercy, the day I leave

Yeah
The day I leave, I won't take anything with me
No apartment, no jewelry, no car
I never rapped for that shit anyway
And the real ones know
And then my first album
When I leave, the only thing that's important to me
Is that I hope I'll have time to say

And I want to hear you sing, ohohohoho
I want to hear you sing ohohoho
Success generates jealousy, Fouiny
It creates enemies
Your success turns against you
What are you going to do?
Kill your success
Would you rather not have succeeded?
It's not complicated
We succeed, we make some enemies
Or we miss our shot and make some friends
It's a matter of choice