Le Chant Du Cygne

It's in my mama's eyes that I found my strength
Otherwise, I'd have cracked a long time ago, I'd have cracked
Every time I move forward, those bastards want to shut the door
But I just keep moving, I just keep moving, I'm the outsider

I shoved the barrel up the colonizer's ass
I earned my stripes, I won the war
I earned my spot in the galas, the salons
In place of those who'd kill their own
I've pulled the trigger, how many times denied?
I'm not a guest, I'm here to do business
I loaded the gun, just in case those little punks
Want to turn the tables on me
AK-47, no magazine
Empty the clip, this ain't new
I've already fucked the variety
With love 'cause the heart's in it
And if you were a bit curious
There are all these corpses of warriors
Lying on the ground 'cause it's risky
To test men who have nothing left

We've been at war for a long time
We emptied the Ballantine's
We married our Valentines
We moved mountains
I even broke through in Argentina
Like I was selling cocaine
I made Caroline sing
I almost fucked my neighbor
I know the stakes
Yeah, it's dangerous
I'm the outsider (I'm the outsider)
There are only plan A's, or fuck plans
No plan B (no plan B)

And your ceiling, my floor
It's not about the number of followers (the number of followers)
When I walk down the street
I don't want to be recognized (to be recognized)

It's in my mama's eyes that I found my strength (strength)
Otherwise, I'd have cracked a long time ago, I'd have cracked
Every time I move forward, those bastards want to shut the door (door)
But I just keep moving, I just keep moving, I'm the outsider (outsider)

I'm Moroccan, I'm African
There are whores among the puritans
Just wish lists on Insta
Keep sucking the Americans
We're far from our own, far from us
They only attack the slow 'cause they're scared of you
Son of a bitch, I see only one way to be proud
To die on my knees

Forgive, or not, it's not your forgiveness I'm seeking
Every time, I'm guilty
It's on the Lord's Earth that I dwell
I preached the truth as I see it
'Cause I saw I wasn't alone in the club
You want me to do it your way
But for an artist, that'd be anxiety
I try not to dirty my second finger
In the end, we only pay what we owe
Autotune was like a second voice
The artist was like just a second me
I'm doing the swan song not to show off
We know the way to Paradise
Listen hypocrite, it's my paradigm
(I stop the music, it's a paradox)