Dernier MC [Remix] [English translation]

Yeah I practice hardcore rap

On violent breakbeat ...

[Verse 1: Lino]

On violent breakbeats, I come put the time on the clock to Flavor Flav

Naughty, I devour the beat, it stirs Quai des Orfèvres

It's tragic what I will do to them, that's my anthem

Put the sound stronger, it's a mess, Master of Ceremonies

My voice penetrates them, launching a rocket on an ambulance

Tefa, give me a measure of silence for competition

...

My rage has stamina in the sector

The real exceeds the fiction, we run faster than its actors

If knowledge is a gun, dude there's only weapons curbed

The death is DJ, history repeats itself, the disc is scratched

The death is DJ, history repeats itself, the disc is scratched

The death is DJ, history repeats itself, the disc ...

Give me a scratch that I leave the hip-hop of his shroud

I'll be the last fucking MC if it must stay one

[Verse 2: Tunisiano]

Let me explain: I make music, it's my big love

Happy but I want money, I'm not the heir of Steve Jobs

In the quest for an ideal, I would that my words deliver you

Put my finger where it hurts, encourage you to open books

I'm not a social worker, I don't have advice to give you

I don't like see mothers crying, I'm not here to lie

Read between the erasures, your blinders make you lie

Little brother burn cars: proof that he has something to say

I'm the speaker of a hated youth

And cause I'm a player, I staked everything on respect

My wisdom strikes them, I chalk outlines

They rap for the call of murder, I rap cries for help

[Verse 3: R.E.D.K.]

I rekindles the flame of clairvoyance for the blaze of the doubt goes off

There to stop the fire, not to fan the flames

Language of Molière in my verses, old illiterate reflex

The beardless rappers want to touch me to take the bull by the horns

I lead my life as I want, yeah turn a deaf ear

Unveils understatement without in lace

Because I think that they understand us only vaguely

We're in the heart of the galley, so well that one hears its beating

I open my mouth cause silence doesn't influence

And the fires of ignorance are all fueled by wood languages

When I write my lyrics, no safety catch

My truths hurt, if you want to listen them, press "wound"

[Verse 4: Medine]

I swallowed their speaking time, so I shit clocks

When we reflect on the meaning, they play hangman game

I have the steep pen, cut in crude bitumen

The adult feather, their devices are covered by our shells noises

He who pays the orchestra chooses the partition

I mortgaging my life for a simple part of sound

Supporter of the fight, I only know talking about it

I feel a bit like M'Bala in a Bar Mitzvah

I'm in BPM since meconium

My heart beats without metronome, never my rhyme is thrifty

I can't find inspiration in zamal

There's not that dying with a bullet hole that we enters the annals

[Verse 5: S.A.M.]

Stand back, meeting of top talent

You can go up my track: I'll let the blood passing

Your rap has no impact, it's lying if I say that it doesn't stink

It's like the blanks: it makes noise, but it don't kill

The dream life, they simulate it to you, coke full sinuses

The truth is hidden like a mule in a Airbus

Forget their disks, "2eme France" soon my disk, bro

I will never be a marketing product for their record stores

Eating the tru-tru-truth it's hard to swallow

How advocating weapons? My buddy was killed

This year it's war, even the sun will flee the shine

Me, I don't have to be worry, the last MC are in my side

[Verse 6: Scylla]

I'm neither a leader nor a prophet, avoid placing me on the throne

If I put the fire and that I breaststroke air, I will always be incapable to walk on the water

If I rap i's that I fight as I can, bro

If I could change the world, I surely would have already taken a bullet between the eyes

Function MC: I don't expect that the money trickles

I speak of caring and retreat

When the masses intermesh in the worst miseries

The dreams merchant and their string-puller

No time to do in the 50 Cent

I must go in peace, I don't want that they have to put me in land in Triple-XL coffin

Scare you, this is not the issue

A true MC matches the quality of his heart with his reason

Who knows, I could rap for the last time

And if I face the light it's for that my shadow remains behind me

[Verse 7: Ladea]

Where are those who had dared to call me a dirty bitch?

I have punchlines, rhymes and flows in quantity for the Hexagon

Each one-each its apple, each represents its area

Tefa, put me acapella to see the effect it gives

While you insist to inflating your chest muscle

I hesitate to drop the text in a ballot box

Tell them it's terrible-terrible when people yeah understand my rhymes

That there's no legend, only white leaves which I use sterile compresses

Punchlines and metaphors

Many would sell their mother to get into the bins of the Virgin Megastore

I think we all agree

It's been twenty rods they say that rap is dead but in truth it is in great shape

[Verse 8: Fababy]

The revolt of the suburbs: you cash it or you die

Tell me what you know, I'll tell you what you ignore

The policy speaks of our streets, but nobody visits them

I'm a black key on a piano: a visible minority

I take advantage while the others are frozen

Like a goalkeeper paranoid, I always feel targeted

If you're locked up, my punchlines deliver you

Knowledge is a weapon, but nobody shoot for buy books

Syndrome of Rosa Parks: I don't want sit at the bottom

A bit like Malcolm X, I might go in blood

All traditional communicators die, but my stories will stay

Me, I know read between the lines: I'm the son of an illiterate mother

[Verse 9: Orelsan]

When I talk about doubts, I talk about hope, I talk about the future challenge

I rap what I see, I talk about me, I'm the arrow and the target

Nobody controls anything more: I must be wary of machines

You're eager to become popular, take my place: I'm in a hurry to be has-been

The media return their jacket like one changing jogging

Big strings, coils, mediocrity dominates

I honed, I persist, I put everything I haev All-In #

Get a book after every punchline, learn to read between our lines

Increment in the headlines because they like to be scared

If we got in the system that's for crack it from the inside

If you want to play the purists: rap in Latin

You advances to nothing, that's why I cut your sounds before the end

• Artist:Kery James
• Album:Dernier MC