Paroles et traduction Faf Larage - Rap Story, Part 2

Rap Story, Part 2

Moi le rap fran? ais
Je suis n? mi-80 la rage au ventre? migr? des States
Arriv? en France o? mon p? re me d? laisse
Je reste sans tune mais des r? ves en t? te je me rappelle
Ici le ciel brillait pour les modestes plus qu'? l'Ouest
Mais j'assume, j'irai peindre ma fresque sur la toile des ma? tres de musique
Je veux en? tre le best mec, sec, j'ai d? chant?
J'aurai pu crever, me casser, m'? craser
Sur le pav? on me voulait pas fran? ais j'ai? t? rejet?
Alors comme un exclu la rue m'a inclus
J'ai revisit? mon but voulu juste exister avec un peu de cul
Nous les jeunes d'ici dans les rues on n'avait pas notre truc
Notre musique qu'on nous identifie, si si et
Qu'on s'exprime, avec mes racines, j'avais les r? cits, eu le d? clic
Au tout d? but j'ai eu peu de public
On me ressortait les ann? es de mon arriv? e, le break
Ma jeunesse un autre contexte avec mon p? re quand je venais
Les potos de l'? poque beaucoup m'ont pas rappel?
Beaucoup ont d? travailler ou sont tomb? s
Les vrais sont rest? s, fid? les? la mort c'est un pacte
On a repris le contr? le et je parle pour eux d? dicace
Fallait que je casse l'image du gosse qui casse
Qui schlasse, qui fume du hash qui grandit et qui se lasse
Je suis pas un l? che, arr? tez les sarcasmes
Pour que dalle j'ai eu un deal, dans les journaux essuyais mes premi? res attaques
Mes clashs on me ratait pas, dans mes? tats, mes? carts, mes? bats
L'opinion avait peur de moi, rien que? a
Mais j' ai pas arr? t?, au contraire j'ai continu?
Commenc? m'organiser sans radio ni t? l?
Trouver une identit? face? mon p? re de l'autre c? t?
Face? sa forte personnalit? c'est pas gagn?
Voyag? du sud au nord m'accrocher, on m'accordait
L'attention d'un art barr? c'? tait mal barr?
Mon taf? tait grave carr?, me boycotter? On a d? j? essay?
Mais trop tard dans les bacs j'? tais install?
Marre de la bac, fais chier! L'? tat je m'en suis toujours m? fi?
Pass? ma vie? les d? fier tu le sais
J'? tais underground dans ma t? te, c'? tait risqu? de surfer
Entre des tubes et des bombes de 6? 10 minutes
J'ai commenc? toucher de l'or c'? tait bon
Mon pedigree dans les quartiers? tait au plafond
Je pensais? tre longtemps? fond
Mais c'est mon p? re qui dans les soir? es mettait la pression
On le kiffait pour de bon, moi comme une indigestion
Je l'avais en travers le con merde il faisait du bon son
C'est mon territoire ici alors qu'est ce qu'il vient se la jouer
Tu crois qu'il m'aurait aid? Mais non voyons
J'? tais pas non-voyant,? la suite, acceptais le fait
Qu'avoir des hits en radio tachait ma r? putation
Bon je suis un mec sombre sorti de l'ombre? fond
Je crois que j'ai toujours cherch? la reconnaissance dans le fond
J'ai peut-? tre? gar? des amis sur le chemin de la r? ussite
Mais qui m'aime me suit et les majors me kiffent
On a sorti plein de titres, des bons, des mauvais
Je leur ai rapport? un max, pens? je vais tout niqu?
? A se passe et des merdes quand j'en sors? a se tasse
D? s fois on dit n'importe quoi pour impressionner des tasses
Qu'est ce qu'il y a?! Ouais je suis large mentalit? de barge
Trop longtemps en marge je mange quand? a marche
Alors j'appr? cie la r? ussite, j'essaye de pas tomber
Mais y a toujours un doute s? rieux dans ce que je fais
Des amis? gar? s, d'autres m'ont spoli?
Des gens mal intentionn? s m'ont r? cup? r?
Je sais plus? qui redistribuer
Grave c? t?, brasse des sous mais toujours pas respect?
Et mon p? re ne vend plus ici d? sol?
Vient pour le prestige faire des billets en soir? e
Si si d? s fois c'est vrai je vais chez lui
C'est vrai j'aurai voulu qu'on enregistre plus de feat
J'ai tendu la perche, rien ensuite, m? me si
Ailleurs il est big ici c'est moi qui fait le biz
On m'a l? ch? sans rep? res, m'a pas? duqu?
Ce qui explique mes faiblesses et mes exc? s
Des relents de violence me lancent
D? s fois je rigole, d? s fois je veux tout larguer
C'est confus dans ma t? te mec
Un jour j'aime la rue le lendemain j'ai qu'une id? e en t? te
VIP et ch? que

Rap Story, Part 2

Me, French rap,
I was born in the mid-80s, rage in my belly, migrated from the States.
Arrived in France where my father left me.
I was left with no money but dreams in my head, I remember.
Here the sky shone brighter for the modest than in the West.
But I assume, I'll paint my fresco on the canvas of the masters of music.
I want to be the best, man, dry, I sang.
I could have died, broken down, crashed.
On the pavement they didn't want me French, I was rejected.
So like an outcast, the street included me.
I revisited my goal, just wanted to exist with a little luck.
We, the young people here in the streets, didn't have our thing.
Our music to identify with, yeah, yeah, and
That we express ourselves, with my roots, I had the stories, had the click.
At the very beginning I had few people listening.
They reminded me of the years of my arrival, the break.
My youth, another context with my father when I came.
The friends from that time, many didn't call me back.
Many had to work or fell.
The real ones stayed, loyal to the death, it's a pact.
We took back control and I speak for them, dedication.
I had to break the image of the kid who breaks.
Who fights, who smokes hash, who grows up and gets tired.
I'm not a loser, stop the sarcasm.
For nothing I got a deal, in the newspapers I wiped away my first attacks.
My clashes were not missed, in my states, my cards, my fights.
Public opinion was afraid of me, just that.
But I didn't stop, on the contrary, I continued.
Started to organize myself without radio or TV.
Find an identity facing my father on the other side.
Facing his strong personality is not won.
Traveled from south to north to cling, I was granted.
The attention of a barred art was badly barred.
My job was seriously squared, boycott me? We already tried.
But too late, in the bins I was installed.
Tired of the bin, fuck it! I've always been proud of the state.
Spent my life defying them, you know it.
I was underground in my head, it was risky to surf.
Between hits and 6-10 minute bombs.
I started making gold, it was good.
My pedigree in the neighborhoods was through the roof.
I thought I'd be bottomed out for a long time.
But it was my father who put the pressure on in the evenings.
They kiffed him for good, me like indigestion.
I had him across the asshole, he made a good sound.
It's my territory here, so what's he coming to play at?
You think he would have helped me? But no, come on.
I wasn't blind, next, accept the fact.
That having radio hits tarnished my reputation.
Well, I'm a dark guy out of the shadows.
I think I've always looked for recognition deep down.
I may have lost friends on the road to success.
But whoever loves me follows me and the majors love me.
We released a lot of tracks, good ones, bad ones.
I brought them a max, thought I'm going to fuck everything up.
It happens and shit when I get out of it it piles up.
Sometimes we say anything to impress cups.
What's up?! Yeah I'm wide, crazy mentality.
Too long on the sidelines I eat when it works.
So I appreciate success, I try not to fall.
But there's always a serious doubt in what I do.
Friends lost, others robbed me.
Malicious people recovered me.
I don't know who to redistribute to anymore.
Serious side, rolling in dough but still not respected.
And my father doesn't sell here anymore, desolate.
Comes for the prestige, making evening tickets.
Yeah, yeah, sometimes it's true, I go to his place.
It's true, I wish we'd recorded more feats.
I held out the pole, nothing after, even though
Elsewhere he's big, here it's me who does the biz.
They dropped me without benchmarks, didn't educate me.
Which explains my weaknesses and my excesses.
Spurts of violence throw me.
Sometimes I laugh, sometimes I want to drop everything.
It's confused in my head, man.
One day I love the street, the next day I have only one idea in mind.
VIP and chicks.