C'est vrai, la vie n'est pas sexy, balance nous, tu finis dans la saxo
Il veut 50g, rajoute, y a 47.6, j'entends des klaxons et sur moi j'ai le sac seul
Ferme la porte, il faut que tu verrouilles l'accès
On a arrêté de compter les mauvaises actions, on finit sur le terrain, numéro 10 dans l'axe
Ca veut gros cavu, paire de talons, dans un gros cul, Porte d'Italie
Pour l'instant je charbonne pour des tals, je vais chercher ma graille, je croise les porcs de taleur'
Tu sais qu'on gère comme sur la moto, 3 descentes, 18 heures, c'est la mi-temps
Y a aucun mytho, je rentre en audition, c'est bon, j'appuie sur "mute"
Grosse bouteille au biberon, ter-ter, gros filon, fous le feu, gros bidon
Bécane, gros guidon, poucave ? Gros, dis non, rhabat, gros pilon
La bécane se lève sur l'allée, les condés sont là en retour
Deuxième pu sur la ligne, si c'est plus chaud, c'est pas on retire
Dans la zone, je mélange shit, tonc et cigarettes
Le guetteur alerte, y a les civ' garés
Pas de message sur ma sim, arrête, tout se passe en sous-marin si tu savais que j'ai des grammes cachés sous ma raie
Passe le stunt, je fais frotter le béton, j'reviens condés au cul, j'fais flipper les piétons
Y a rien d'inquiétant, je prends une gée-gor, je fais tomber mon pétou
Et puis sinon ça va c'est cool, quand au quartier, il fait beau comme à Monaco
Sauf les shtar, ils pètent des 'los et on se demande, ils ont décrit la mine à qui ?
Le temps passe, ça mène à quoi
Si on regarbien, c'est Timal qui mène encore
Les bleus regardent c'est la semaine à qui, pendant qu'sous leurs yeux, gérant ramène encore
La peu-fra calée dans le çon-cale, si j'la sors ça sent comme 100 kil'
On connait les bolosses sous came, diez 31 diez, téléphone sans fil
Elle pue sa mère, ta soirée sans folles,
A croire qu'j'ai entendu l'pu direct on s'enfuit
Plan bourbier, t'inquiètes, on s'en sort, je sors du comico, l'affaire est sans suite
Pas de message sur ma sim, arrête, tout se passe en sous-marin si tu savais que j'ai des grammes cachés sous ma raie
Passe le stunt, je fais frotter le béton, j'reviens condés au cul, j'fais flipper les piétons
Y a rien d'inquiétant, je prends une gée-gor, je fais tomber mon pétou
Timal, real name Ruben Louis, is a French rapper born in Paris in 1993. Active since 2015, he stands out for his melodic and introspective rap style, often focusing on personal themes such as love, loneliness, and self-discovery. His success grew rapidly thanks to singles like «J'ai pas d'amis» and «La vie est belle», which topped the French charts. In 2018, he released his debut album «Le Monde de Timal», a work appreciated for its musical maturity and the sincerity of the lyrics. Timal is considered one of the most interesting voices of the new generation of French rappers, capable of combining technical skills with genuine emotionality. Among his most representative tracks: «J'ai pas d'amis», «La vie est belle», «On s'aime bien» and «Le Monde de Timal».
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