La chanson du loubard [English translation]

The day rises on my suburbs

I'm cold it's not winter yet

What could I do for Gods sake?

I do not have a round and I do not look

serious, serious

I'm a lout among many others

I'm not sleeping far from the Defense

I look dirty, it's not my fault

My HLM is not Byzantium

My friend, my friend

At fourteen, my father

Hired me at the factory

Two days later I left

Seems I'm an unworthy son

One evening in a deserted street

I mowed a Honda 500

To an honest bourgeois son

With her I go to 200

Yeah that's nice, it's nice

My friend Pierrot crashed

On the highway on a rainy day

Sometimes I hear him laugh

It's sure he's in heaven

It's swollen, it's swollen

And I continue my film like life

At the foot of these shabby buildings

I'd like to die before I'm ugly

I would like to finish like you my old Gavroche

I'm a peripheral lout

I'm full of the boots of this city

France is a shitty suburb

As my friend Mohamed says

With cops, With cops

The day rises on my suburbs

I'm cold it's not winter yet

It's funny the bitumen is all blue

There's my bike that cracks on the floor

Good God, good God

Oh, God

Oh my God, good God

• Artist:Renaud