Song: IAM - Libère Mon Imagination English Translation
Viewed: 1 - Published at: 4 years ago
Artist: Genius English Translations
Year: 1997Viewed: 1 - Published at: 4 years ago
[IAM - Libère Mon Imagination/ English Translation]
[Chorus]
The tempo frees my imagination
Reminds me that my music was born in a coton field
[Verse 1 - Shurik'n]
The five senses honed, I'm ready
Music is entering my head, I let myself be guided
I find myself in a place where everything is white
Is it heaven? Yet a smell of blood
Wafts above the open charley
Guiding my quill and my mind in these few verses
For every words engraved, a sweat drop
Of those who have fallen in these fields of woe
Theirs life where only hanging by a chain
But their free souls hover today in these plains
They spend their life between death and love
Everyday my skin color reminds it to me each time that
[Chorus]
The tempo frees my imagination
Reminds me that my music was born in a coton field
[Verse 2 - Akhenaton]
Gorée Island, behind my quill
Behind my rhythm resonates sinister complaints
That we hear in our verses, in these expert compositions
Leaving the mouth of a sage with pierced nostrils
Who use to gather in his valley
Speck of dust from the sky, destiny shaken
In a slaver's holds, rope to the neck
The smell of death, these percus' are the memory at the time
And every intense snares receive wound into the brain
The snare reminds me of this whip lacerating the skin
The charley, these puff of passivity
Each words in my thoughts for a slave murdered
[Shurik'n]
The sample keeps coming back
Turns us into routine's victim
How many people already know their future
Working hard to barely earn enough to survive
For the mind to be apeased, it's fed with fictional freedom
Here we are chainless slave
But far from the coton fields
Today without duress, we slave in concrete fields
The conditioning is so perfect, so accepted
That some are waiting to be told what to think
Is the precious creed forever lost?
Is there only in my head that the chants keep playing?
[Chorus]
The tempo frees my imagination
Reminds me that my music was born in a coton field
[Verse 3 - Akhenaton]
I'm sure of one thing
The letters evaporation frees from yoke, of servitude
And if today many use it
It's to break the chains of new forms of enslavment
In vogue in our western society, nothing new
The keys are words
If not why does nazis would have done book burnings
In Toulon, books would have been sold in total freedom
But our texts through Hertzian waves take the airways
Our voices will not be prisoners
Committed stance for music, this unique athmosphere
Breaks the law of mental enslavment
[Chorus]
The tempo frees my imagination
Reminds me that my music was born in a coton field
[Chorus]
The tempo frees my imagination
Reminds me that my music was born in a coton field
[Verse 1 - Shurik'n]
The five senses honed, I'm ready
Music is entering my head, I let myself be guided
I find myself in a place where everything is white
Is it heaven? Yet a smell of blood
Wafts above the open charley
Guiding my quill and my mind in these few verses
For every words engraved, a sweat drop
Of those who have fallen in these fields of woe
Theirs life where only hanging by a chain
But their free souls hover today in these plains
They spend their life between death and love
Everyday my skin color reminds it to me each time that
[Chorus]
The tempo frees my imagination
Reminds me that my music was born in a coton field
[Verse 2 - Akhenaton]
Gorée Island, behind my quill
Behind my rhythm resonates sinister complaints
That we hear in our verses, in these expert compositions
Leaving the mouth of a sage with pierced nostrils
Who use to gather in his valley
Speck of dust from the sky, destiny shaken
In a slaver's holds, rope to the neck
The smell of death, these percus' are the memory at the time
And every intense snares receive wound into the brain
The snare reminds me of this whip lacerating the skin
The charley, these puff of passivity
Each words in my thoughts for a slave murdered
[Shurik'n]
The sample keeps coming back
Turns us into routine's victim
How many people already know their future
Working hard to barely earn enough to survive
For the mind to be apeased, it's fed with fictional freedom
Here we are chainless slave
But far from the coton fields
Today without duress, we slave in concrete fields
The conditioning is so perfect, so accepted
That some are waiting to be told what to think
Is the precious creed forever lost?
Is there only in my head that the chants keep playing?
[Chorus]
The tempo frees my imagination
Reminds me that my music was born in a coton field
[Verse 3 - Akhenaton]
I'm sure of one thing
The letters evaporation frees from yoke, of servitude
And if today many use it
It's to break the chains of new forms of enslavment
In vogue in our western society, nothing new
The keys are words
If not why does nazis would have done book burnings
In Toulon, books would have been sold in total freedom
But our texts through Hertzian waves take the airways
Our voices will not be prisoners
Committed stance for music, this unique athmosphere
Breaks the law of mental enslavment
[Chorus]
The tempo frees my imagination
Reminds me that my music was born in a coton field
( Genius English Translations )
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