Kery James - A qui la faute (with Lyrics & Subtitles)
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Kery James - A qui la faute (en) Lyrics
I wanted to make a film
I did it, I didn’t wait for Canal
I didn’t wait for an arts grant
I was tired of seeing the same people
Grab our stories
So I wrote my own screenplay
That depicts our lives
I don’t want my hands idle
I counted on my talent
I’m not a “son of…” It’s only my determination
that has long arms
I had to work twice as hard As those
with half the talent I have
In France it’s normal for an African
You ask me whose fault it is?
As far as I’m concerned I wasn’t born
To build somebody else’s dreams
I carry my own victories
and my failures
I’m not a slave
The French state isn’t my master
However the French state keeps putting
it to you And you maybe get by
It’s nothing but the crumbs
To make you feel that if you failed
that’s because you’re stupid
Because the stone that the builder refused
Will end up in the window
One lone film by Kery James Two
hundred by shitty yuppies
Wow, you did it all alone You see
what I mean by all alone
Poverty, how many are below that line
Since the state had the good idea
To get rich off immigrants
And hand off the neighbourhoods
to them Where the middle
class committed suicide
But compare those neighbourhoods
To what our parents fled from
The Bois-l’Abbé projects are luxurious
For somebody fleeing Haiti
When I see those with more I
remember those with less
From as far back as I can remember
I never saw my mother complain
Do you know where we come from?
Me I did it all alone
You understand all alone Huh?
Below the poverty line
The suburbs aren’t alone
The countryside is abandoned
The misery is rural too
I know sympathetic whites
For whom life is brutal
The whites suffer too, thanks
I didn’t see the news
The slums have worn the yellow
vest for twenty years
Nobody gives a damn
France is in denial A mix of
ignorance and contempt
Don’t talk about ethnicities I have uncles
who think Africa‘s a country
I know the neighbourhoods seen by those
Who would never set foot there
Who talk about them at every meal Never
dream of going to see the facts
I was raised like: “Don’t
hang out with those people,
you’ll get mugged”
Myths and legends on TV Must
integrate without mixing
Trouble without counter-example The
future will become your present
No colonies without consequences
Anti-white racism
So much complacency Believe
me I know that France
I’m not saying everybody’s bad
I say fears and negligence
Make for a nasty population
There’s racism in France, who
are you telling that to?
I wrote “Letter to the Republic”
You, where were you?
We don’t change things By
just stating findings
Submit or act I’ll tell
you like it is
Life is a question of choice!
Neither left nor right
But if our brothers don’t find work
What can they do Beyond starting
their own business?
You see the world cross-
eyed, you’re naïve
You still believe in SOS
Racisme And protests
I’m not naïve, I’m betrayed I no longer
believe what I was taught
Equality, homeland
Oh yeah?
Are you the one choosing, start
your business Who’s enriched
on your credit?
Get in the system or perish Lose
your dreams in City Hall
As long as they talk about
elites They say you can get
by if you deserve it
But you deserve to get by
It’s just a technique
The state wants to put you to sleep
And play the slum lords
The only model of success
Theirs based on dough
If they help the youth to
become the old like them
You can hit the jackpot
You won’t beat the casino
At its own game
Pyramid scheme the money rises
The shit stays at the bottom
I’m not saying everybody’s
in on the plot I’m saying
they don’t rock the boat
I have brothers who’re gone
I don’t romanticize the projects Because
I was raised in the weeds
I’ve seen guys full of
vices Smoke a guy
That their mother still thought
of Like her own son
A bullet in the head, violent death
Is it the state that
pulled the trigger?
As in the northern projects We
end up getting used to it
We never needed the state
To fill our cemeteries
Blundering police
No security nets
Identity control At the age when
you don’t know who you are
Finish by glorifying inglorious things
Raised in the fire There
are more obstacles
And they’re more dangerous
Play with your life
Drug trafficking to “sons of” Locked
up so they can escape to a party
You’re a pawn in their little game
The politicians, it’s only
glory that motivates them
How to believe the opposite
when the presidents ****
Girls from the showbiz
In showbiz How many slum
kid millionaires
Who struck the word “solidarity”
from their dictionary?
We’ve made some cash
Huh, how much?
How many entrepreneurs? How many
stars have the slums produced?
But success makes them amnesiacs
The fear of losing what they
think they own paraplegic
How many?
How many dares to protest?
How many dares to face them When they
tar us in their newspapers?
Whose fault is it?
I don’t try to deny the problems
But I don’t count on the state,
me I count on us
That question belongs to the past
I have only one question, me
What are we doing?!
I'm still rapping
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