B.B Jacques-En deuil Lyrics – B.B. Jacques
Singer: B.B. Jacques
Title: B.B Jacques-En deuil
Tino, she says “yes” to me three times
In fact 24 carats was only 3×8 (hey)
Money Time, three point switch
Bonnie Clyde, three pints, baked
She has her eye on my Swiss dial
Young shareholder, soon to be an executive in Switzerland
You were Gray Goose, I was dry Whiskey (eh)
As the other would say, I stay up, I make my little place
We’ve always had balls, we haven’t always had little wads
She probably prefers us in little 〈.?.〉
I wanted to surround myself
I surroundеd myself with leaders, young bossеs (yeah)
I came to distribute middles on young boys (hey)
I make my entry as a leader under full passion
Weight on my shoulders and little patience
The ceiling falls on my head, I don’t want your science
My stomach hurts, I was on the verge of screaming
“Long live the trance”
Cone in the boca as usual
I need a lawyer like Jacques
Too far, I’m not waiting for her to come back
Big tchoin, big joint, drive and cut the contact
So baby, I’m coming on fire
Discreet, mischievous as an arms dealer
I ask forgiveness from God, from my rent-pa
Got my head in the sky like Willy Wonka
Don’t talk to me about love if it’s not to do it (if it’s not to do it)
Cigarette in the mouth after a few drinks
I kept the ardor so that the roles are reversed
I don’t give a f#ck anymore if the blues gets to me
Where were you when Tino was just a model?
You ask us, it’s ok
Truth has its virtues, you ask for that in cash
The guy who got lost gets his place
Don’t make that face, come on, take it
〈qui pro quo?〉 digested very quickly
Twelve voice messages, three want a feat, must
Create the pogo when they expect a beat
Hit in the top corner when they bribe the ref
Weep, like the sky that hides
The evening in front of the cops, there are boxes that crash
‘There are brothers who let go
Facing the plexiglass glass ceiling
If only I had known, there would be no “What’s going on?”
You watch the Aston pass you say “What’s brewing!”
We don’t say if we live who, we don’t say if we hide
He picks up his jacket, picks up his cash
“No, officer, it’s not a fart but it’s just a cigarette” (eh)
“Baby it’s not a wh#re but it’s just a friend”
To my bow, I have more than one string
At your age, I’ll have more than a Ford
Thoroughbred, Arab provides more than a rating
Pure without tobacco, you come more than a friend
Depth of my sentences caresses more than a glottis
Don’t talk to me about love if it’s not to do it (not to do it)
Cigarette in the mouth after a few drinks
I kept the ardor so that the roles are reversed
I don’t give a f#ck anymore if the blues gets to me
Where were you when Tino was just a model?
Tino, she says “yes” to me three times
Three times “yes”
Tino, she says “yes” to me three times
Three times “yes”
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Lyrics B.B. Jacques – B.B Jacques-En deuil
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