.J'fais les ronds, j'fais les ronds, j'fais les ronds, le monde
Plus je me rapproche du sommet, plus j'entends le ciel qui gronde
J'voulais juste grailler>
QLF ne cherche pas d'alliés
Eh zut, la vie est bonne, bonne à niquer>
Ils vendent leur cul, leur mère
On imagine p.
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