... Bichettes ...

ça manque. ça manque. c'était il y a si peu de temps. ça manque. ça manque. maintenant on pense au bac. ça manque. ça manque.

Mes plus belles années, celles de l'innocence ..
Tunisie Avril 1990
1 an et 1 mois
j'assumais déjà mon attitude de grosse :p

when i was a kid we used to play a game, play a game, play a game, play a game

i think you know the rules of our game
i have no time to play games

sometimes i plo staccato
strip you of vibrato
while you be actin macho
i try and switch it up
i see the games you play and the traps you lay
no pit to fall in but i let you play them anyway

sometimes i plo staccato
strip you of vibrato
while you be actin macho
i try and switch it up
i see the games you play and the traps you lay
no pit to fall in but i let you play them anyway

sit here the clock tick, watch the leaves on the plant leak from the fan above the room and i live
head trip deliberate cease fight the feelin and submit fluidity like the path preexisting it cools me sonic they keep us like a web cam from the pyramids attic
pass from hand to hand the same coincidence so that again my instincts tellin me to back up from that handshake that was intense, my instincts tellin me to back up from that handshake that was intense
brush it off and commence, blame it on myself trippin till the shit hit the fan cause i steal from the plan about face the billy jean step into place
throw my coat on the hood recount the time that i waste
i know that spittin's a bad habit but i can't help the taste still searching for the clues the significance of a cold case
procrastinator till i enter
the shit from your face
rebuild the ace say yeah, say yeah, say yeah

sometimes i plo staccato
strip you of vibrato
while you be actin macho
i try and switch it up
i see the games you play and the traps you lay
no pit to fall in but i let you play them anyway

sometimes i plo staccato
strip you of vibrato
while you be actin macho
i try and switch it up
i see the games you play and the traps you lay
no pit to fall in but i let you play them anyway

how could you do this to me?
me, me, me, me
don't you get tired of thinking about yourself?
greedy bald self, greedy bald self, greedy bald self

now you ain't sayin nada, sweatin gettin hotta,
changin to my bother, i'm bout to rip you up
such a control freak, you got the words i speak,
you got your nerve
you question me but you ain't even listenin'
your world is make believe, but i keep pretendin that i'm flexible so you think your wheels got me bending
puttin all your energy into negitivity your movin over me while your steady scheming
but i'm making moves while your sleepin and dreamin of bein larger than life your own how you believe in
but now you've been making the funk since the beginning too many chapters and now to be writing fix the ending
besides you question what kind of message that we sendin that use the chump what punk so what
i came out of the rules you use to play by the way i'm sure of a beginning and a end but everything in between is all gray, all gray, all gray, all gray


sometimes i plo staccato
strip you of vibrato
while you be actin macho
i try and switch it up
i see the games you play and the traps you lay
no pit to fall in but i let you play them anyway

sometimes i plo staccato
strip you of vibrato
while you be actin macho
i try and switch it up
i see the games you play and the traps you lay
no pit to fall in but i let you play them anyway

i don't understand this game, this game, this game
































A savoir pour la prochaine fois que je te vois le Rob'