Noirs Et Blancs - Doc Gyneco

Noirs et Blancs.

Y’avait des mots pour le Secteur

Des mots violents, presque en verlan

Des mots qui meurent et font couler le sang

Ces mots sont morts et dornavant,

Faut voir, Maman;

coute Papa,

Jnai qules beaux mots pour parler mes filles,

Oreilles sensibles, syeux plus sensibles

Je leur cde tout ce que jcris

Et jnai jamais voulu faire lhomme

Plus que des textes relient mes psaumes.

Laisser les noirs, laisser les blancs,

Mais quils divorcent, fassent des enfants,

Quils tendent leurs bras, des innocents

Tulululup tuptup tuplu

Ya pas dproblme aux gens dcouleur

Que na cre 100 ans dmalheur

Et moi je danse pour toute rsistance,

Jveux pas partir comme un martyr,

Jirais mourir en rvolutionnaire,

Un subterfuge (hey, hey) dans la lumire,

Laisser les noirs, laisser les blancs,

Mais quils divorcent, fassent des enfants,

Quils tendent leurs bras, des innocents

Tulululup tuptup tuplu

Jferais pas rimer, non, les femmes et leur cuisine,

Ya trop dustensiles dans leur usine,

Les brunes comme Marilyn, Karu Kera ou Josphine,

Jserais toujours l pour elles, elles;

elles plurielles

Laisser les noirs, laisser les blancs,

Mais quils divorcent, fassent des enfants,

Quils tendent leurs bras, des innocents

Tulululup tuptup tuplu

Laisser les noirs, laisser les blancs,

Quils se rencontrent comme des enfants,

Et tendent leurs bras, des innocents

Blacks and whites.

There were words for the Sector

Violent words, almost in verlan

Words that die and draw blood

Those words are dead and henceforth,

Must see, Mom;

listens dad,

I only have beautiful words to speak to my daughters,

Sensitive ears, more sensitive eyes

I give them everything I write

And I never wanted to be the man

More than texts connect my psalms.

Leave the blacks, leave the whites,

But let them divorce, have children,

That they stretch out their arms, innocent people

Tulululup tuptup tuplu

No problem with colored people

Let 100 years of misfortune be born

And I dance for all resistance,

I don't wanna leave like a martyr,

I would die a revolutionary,

A subterfuge (hey, hey) in the light,

Leave the blacks, leave the whites,

But let them divorce, have children,

That they stretch out their arms, innocent people

Tulululup tuptup tuplu

I wouldn't rhyme, no, women and their cooking,

There's too many utensils in their factory,

Brunettes like Marilyn, Karu Kera or Josephine,

I would always be there for them;

they plural

Leave the blacks, leave the whites,

But let them divorce, have children,

That they stretch out their arms, innocent people

Tulululup tuptup tuplu

Leave the blacks, leave the whites,

May they meet like children,

And reach out their arms, innocent people