INVICTUS

Street kids know how it's done
Weekdays after midnight
Dirhams, dollars, and seas where sharks swim
Where nothing ends up being what it seems

We own the days we have left
Life's a b*tch, it won't win the war
Even though I know it won't give truce
Stop telling my story
I cry blood, tastes like glory
We're fury for the euphoria
I'm your vice, I'm your phobia

Kids for some, but wise for others
Don't want to know what lip honey tastes like
I don't fight for the podium
I wonder when drunk: Why am I so serious sober?

Crazy like Cletus, by your neck Nosferatus
Here we make money with Rolexes and lotuses
We drink Cardi and smoke cactus
Singing until we're out of breath
We smell like glory, not like invictus

Do you want the cheese or are you just passing by?
I'm not on top, I compete against the weight of failure
We're silent, hunting the bear's skin
You feel the demon in your body if I kiss you
We drink universes in glasses
Prisoner of your bones, far from yours
They only covet my veins
In the end, they're all just dogs

Getting used to it, it'll be like this until you die
From the foot you limp on, the hand you shoot with
The face you make when you want war
The face you make when things get serious
And how expensive the drug is when you abuse it

In my sister's eyes, I see Chaouen
In my lungs, only Tangier remains
In her mind, she hides places where man has never been
And where there has always been ruin

Glory is hungry, always seen in the dark
Seen too much, but counted not even 20
Uniformed by day, a client at night
I check your passport, slide to make you run

015 on the map for a crazy mind
The white devil sold in the form of a rock
I'm gold because I touch what it touches
Bad smiles never, good news few

Cheap house, tiki-taka
Bell tower on the map, motherf*cker
She comes from the library, I come from the square
From smoking straight and drinking from a flask

Golden corpses, silver skulls
I'm the squid sandwich from the house
Who sets the price on my head?
The fool talks too much without knowing what's going on

I never say more than I should
Since they will betray me, it wouldn't be anything new
And here we are, with work and balls
Avoiding the scythe, from Spain to Morocco