They call themselves eagles but sing like Nightingales (x2)
[Verse 1]
(Han) We move in silence, out of their orbits
After taking the idiots out of the cockpit
br/>Nothing to worry about shining or going fast, we don't see us coming:
Electromagnetic propulsion
No jojo, nothing but canvases
Little bla-bla , style of average guy
To the scales and the enemies we knew how to resist
So strong that for the schmitts even we never existed
The kids fond of glory and renowned
There's a storm upstairs, they still want to caress the top
All it's a deluge to sip two Rum Papaya
And send the money order At the pouf' left in Pattaya
[Chorus]
There it's no longer a game #DanceMortelle
You shine like a brothel mirror
Those who will come don't take tweezers
It's the fire that comes after the spark
Say well
There it's no longer a game #DanceMortelle
You shine like a brothel mirror
Those who are coming don't take tweezers
It's the fire that comes after the spark
They call themselves eagles but they sing like Nightingales (x2)
[Verse 2]
These tangles that start with a dislike or a click
Facebooks and tweets become the normal extension of their dicks
They end up hanging on the return of the echo
The subscription to the box as a springboard for the ego
Showing off, being followed or even making a figure
Profiles of bandits without fists, with nothing but claws
Rotten people, to exist they create beef
And take refuge with the cops, crying if they fall the slaps
Return match like in the play-offs
People are going crazy as if they had drunk peyote
To be honest, it puts schnouff in the department
They want to operate dark with neon on their face
And when the BAC hits and the bracelets clip
You were the sun of the Hood here is your eclipse
Old-fashioned guy, our tongues erase the evidence
We love animals and everything that shuts its mouth
[Chorus]

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