More songs by Saïf
Description
Night here is not rest, but refuge - the only place where you can hide the noise in your head and the smell of the street. In the air - hapt, fatigue, and longing for something pure that is no longer attainable. Between swearing and prayer, fear slips in: that mom will one day not recognize him, and dad will never have time to be proud.
This is not just about a “hard life” - it's about surviving at the bottom, where sleep is a luxury and hope smells like gasoline. A world where love is for your brother, pain is a habit, and the only belief is that tomorrow, at least someone will live to see the morning.
Lyrics and translation
Original
Malade, yemma, ouvre-moi la porte, c'est moi
J'fais des cauchemars où elle m'reconnaît pas
Demain, on va mourir, t'en sais quoi?
Moi, j'pue la khapta, yemma, j'deviens malade
La défonce monte, la khapta aussi, j'suis toujours pas heureux
8-4, c'est trash, j'me crois dans un clip sauf qu'on guette pas les rushs
Et صاحبي مشى, j'sais même pas où, nan, t'inquiète pas le reuf
On va tellement percer qu'cette putain d'vie, on lui claquera les seufs
Ici, c'est sale, plus sale que ma cabez' à quatre heures du matin
Ne crois jamais en ces catins, nan, personne prendra tes patins
Dans mes rêves, j'vois mon père fier de moi, ma mère aussi
Dans mes cauchemars, j'vois cette grosse salope habillée en robe satin
Le poto a la PSIG aux pattes, cinq عربش dans l'Clio 4
Toi, donne ton Snap' ou il vole ton mari, petit est un psychopathe
Si y a heja, on frappe, pas trop du genre à s'défiler
J'vois l'fou qui m'raconte ses histoires, zehma, il a un pet au casque
Encaisse les tales, encaisses les coups, la bourgeoise ne m'aime pas du tout
J'empeste le shit et à chaque barre, j'rêve du jour où j'les baiserai tous
Petit zone avec kabous, wallah, qu'eux deux, ils font la paire
8-4 City, c'est tellement noir qu'on est tous tombés dans un gouffre
Malade, yemma, ouvre-moi la porte, c'est moi
J'fais des cauchemars où elle m'reconnaît pas
Demain, on va mourir, t'en sais quoi?
Moi, j'pue la khapta, yemma, j'deviens malade
Dans un gouffre, gros, y a pas d'espoir
Dans l'équipe, gros, y a pas d'escorte
Des millions dans un sac de sport
Amoureux d'la nuit, le jour, on baisse les stores
Malade, yemma, ouvre-moi la porte, c'est moi
J'fais des cauchemars où elle m'reconnaît pas
Demain, on va mourir, t'en sais quoi?
Moi, j'pue la khapta, yemma, j'deviens malade
Dans un gouffre, gros, y a pas d'espoir
Dans l'équipe, gros, y a pas d'escorte
Des millions dans un sac de sport
Amoureux d'la nuit, le jour, on baisse les stores
English translation
Sick, yemma, open the door for me, it's me
I have nightmares where she doesn't recognize me
Tomorrow we're going to die, what do you know?
Me, I stink of khapta, yemma, I'm getting sick
The high is rising, the khapta too, I'm still not happy
8-4, it's trash, I think I'm in a music video except that we don't watch the rushes
And صاحبي مشى, I don't even know where, no, don't worry the new one
We're going to break through so badly that this fucking life, we'll smack him all the way
Here, it's dirty, dirtier than my cabez' at four in the morning
Never believe in these whores, no one will take your skates
In my dreams, I see my father proud of me, my mother too
In my nightmares, I see this big slut dressed in a satin dress
The friend has the PSIG on his legs, five عربش in the Clio 4
You, give your Snap' or he will steal your husband, little one is a psychopath
If there is heja, we knock, not really the type to run away
I see the crazy guy telling me his stories, Zehma, he has a fart in his helmet
Take the tales, take the blows, the bourgeoisie doesn't love me at all
I stink of shit and with each bar, I dream of the day when I'll fuck them all
Small area with kabous, wallah, the two of them make a pair
8-4 City, it's so dark we all fell into an abyss
Sick, yemma, open the door for me, it's me
I have nightmares where she doesn't recognize me
Tomorrow we're going to die, what do you know?
Me, I stink of khapta, yemma, I'm getting sick
In a big abyss, there is no hope
In the team, big, there is no escort
Millions in a sports bag
Lovers of the night, during the day, we lower the blinds
Sick, yemma, open the door for me, it's me
I have nightmares where she doesn't recognize me
Tomorrow we're going to die, what do you know?
Me, I stink of khapta, yemma, I'm getting sick
In a big abyss, there is no hope
In the team, big, there is no escort
Millions in a sports bag
Lovers of the night, during the day, we lower the blinds