IAM - Demain, c’est loin (English Translation) Lyrics

[Verse 1: Shurik'N]
The ink flows, the blood spills, the blotting paper
Soaks up emotion, bagful of images in my memory

I talk about what my people live and what I see
Men drowning in despair, drifting away
Men who destroy each other for F20,000 worth of hash

I’m talking ‘bout my daily life, listen close, my words won’t make you laugh
Laugh, smile, some have lost theirs,
thinking 'bout Momo
Who told me, “See you later;” never to be seen again

Courting the Devil to escape the struggle, you made it, brother!
But it’s still poverty for those pushing on behind you
Pushing, growing in the middle of a concrete field

Growing up in a parking lot, watching the big brothers bring home the cash
Poverty makes you think hard, within a blink of an eye
We cut it, we press it, we chop it up, we bag it up, we sell it

Non-stop, we reap the crack money
Yeah, that’s life and don’t talk about welfare here, here
Here, everyone dreams of a GTI Golf and a Tacchini tracksuit
Picking up women like Manny from Scarface, I enjoyed watching it like everyone else
Thank God I grew up, I’m smarter, he just dies at the end

The end, the hunger, the hunger justifies the means: four, five little misdeeds
And we hold on ‘til tomorrow, then we’ll see what happens

We walk in the shadow of Evil from dusk ‘til dawn
Lurking in a corner, knife in hand, outlaws on dirt paths

Path, path, there aren’t two to become a god
Pounded on like an anvil, don’t look down, the envious always want a slice
One way in, two ways out, three-quarter length leather jacket
Succeed, fade, become a memory
Memories, of being so young, an entire phonebook
Of guys wiped off the map like a blackboard, Pow! Darkness
Believe in who? In what? These guys are all mirrors
Going in the same direction,
trying to fill up their drawers
Drawer, you live your life in one, you end up in one

Before you go to Hell on Earth, we build our own Heaven
Fiction, the delusion is too strong, get out some weed
Reality hits too hard, need to escape
Escape, escape, use your imagination, here all is gray
The walls, the minds, the rats at night

We all want to escape this prison, a needle goes around, time for action
False diversion, one day you blow your fuse
Lead, a lucky few have some in their brains
Others shoot it at each other for a fistful of cash, brothers at war

Weapons grow like weeds
The image of the gangsta spreads like gangrene sowing seeds
Seeds, seeds, seeds of delinquents, what were you hoping for?
From the youngest age, they are taught that nothing makes a man except francs

From the discreet franc-tireur to the organized gang, the root turns into a field
Too big to be stopped

Arrested, unlucky on the way in, lucky on the way out
You get three months, the rumor spreads, the rep grows bigger

The steel bars scare no one anymore, that’s the routine, a common thorn
A fine sketch with Chinese ink, a figurine that every so often comes to life

Life, living for a vicious appetite for money
Night falls, no matter the weather, we roll the dice, we must play with fire
Win or lose, come back with a couple more bills
Whatever helps, no one will ask where from where came your windfall

Whether you fall or not, for all or nothing, we take the chance, no big deal, cousin
In either case, we’ll be fine
To live like a dog or a prince? It’s no contest
We’ve made our choice, grill the lamb, flaunt the jewels

Jewels, a dream, the pockets are full but the target is far away, the arrow
Ricochets, the Devil adds an ugly notch, the guys tick
Their own box, shoot for the cash, I hear the bells ring like sounds of the pickaxe
Digging a hole is too easy

Easy-peasy, easy as taking a cowardly rich man’s jacket, every grandma’s nightmare
And porcelain through the windshield
Clack! Razor to the purse, here comes the cash

And that’s all day, tomorrow and the day after tomorrow
Tomorrow? That’s not the problem, we live day to day
We can’t waste time or we’ll lose money, others will take it
Tomorrow is far away, there’s no rush, slowly but surely
We move forward while watching our asses so we can talk about the future

Future, the future won’t change a thing, the next generations
Will be worse off than us, their lives will be bleaker
Our future is the next minute, the goal: anticipate it
Predict it before you get nailed
Nailed, nailed to a bench, nothing else to do so we drink beer
We whistle at hoochies with no brothers
The walls hold us back like flypaper
Here we are, we’ll never get out, Satan holds us back with his pitchfork

Fork, like forks stacking up the risks second after second
Every incident is another stone for our slings
Against their lasers, some lose hope, many fall to the ground
The stubborn refuse a suicidal fight

Fight, fighting disbelief, the Gods watch Man head towards the wrong
Side of eternity with a firm, steady gait
Preferring to wander around down here, for he would be bored as fuck up there
Only on this side do angels sell something to smoke

Smoke, another toke, the veil has fallen
Head on the pillow, for a moment all the shit fades away
Through the window enters a scream, a man is getting mugged
A kid is getting arrested, for a Cartier, handcuffed

Handcuffed, feet and fists bound by fate
Imprisoned in the donjon, destined for the jail cell

The turf, the arena, we grew up with the games
Brave gladiators but life is tough so we wrestle the best we can

[Verse 2: Akhenaton]
In high-rise buildings
Misunderstandings, gangs of kids calling themselves badboys
Friction, excitement, undercover cops on patrol
Useless paranoia, foolish myths and legends

Hashish by the kilo, poets armed with pens
Stockpiles of creativity, warehouses, silos
They take off to Block 20, pack of Heineken in hand
Lighting up a big joint to forget

African princesses, teen moms, plastic bags
Full of glue, psychotic hordes of ghetto youth
The black market, squad solid as a rock
Little Dons tightly controlling their drug spots

We pop the Veuve Cliquot, crowded like Mexico City
Cemented horizons, pickpockets, drug addicts
Honest people ignored, supercops, Zorros
Politicians and journalists visiting the zoo

Respectful Muslims, humble family men
Stereos that blast my jungle music

Devastated lobbies, destroyed car wrecks
A swarm of kids coming to score freebies
Orange lights flaring, smoking chimneys
Pickup soccer games on the asphalt
Golf VR6, screeching tires
Silence broken by police sirens

Façonnable polos, tacky tracksuits
Mothers with admirable character traits
Counterfeit hashish, prison stories
Stupid divisions, piles of embers
Oriental clichés, spicy food
Charming tree-inspired names for buildings in the cement forest

Midday desert, scorching sun
Nightlife during the month of Ramadan

Lack of distraction creates action
Games of dice, belote, gambling, fatal attractions

Non-stop laughter, surprise arrests
Corrupt arrondissement mayors
Treading on used needles, dreams of traveling
Car radios for a bargain, batches of ripped out stereos
Guys with no back up plans, psychopaths with no pity
Best friendships a guy could ever build

Sports talents wasting their time in vacant lots
New jokes, terrible pickup lines
Individuals who crack under the stress
No one make a move and no one gets hurt

Fumes of ether, solvents, alcohol
Brink’s vans eyed like a jackpot

It’s not funny, the dog bites when locked in a cage
Slobbering in rage, the cage bars climb to the second floor
Sell hash, it’s wiser if you want to take out your woman
If you get caught, keep your mouth shut and there’s no drama
But school isn’t far away, neither is trouble
It starts with spanking and ends with police custody

Look at the streets, what changes? Only the seasons
You drool concrete, spit concrete, shit concrete
You fight for a penny, but what does that yield?
Don’t regret the dough when the BAC knocks on the door

Tri-colored posters treat us like dirt
This isn’t Manila, okay, but the cigarettes turn to joints
Guilty or innocent, we talk money, percentage
Eye for eye, mouth for tooth, it’s stressful

Early in the morning, the family is already outside, Kader’s gang
“Fuck you!” Shit coming out their ass, they already know how to swear
It’s not easy to talk about love, working at a factory
Beautiful hoochies break their backs in the kitchens
Politicians hammer on about renovation, it’s comforting
But it’s still the same shit under a fresh layer of paint

Dead dreams lie buried in the courtyard
At 12 years old, driving, dying, ending up like Tupac Shakur
Looking at pictures, now an adult, homie
So many friends have already died in motorcycle accidents
Win once, lose a thousand times, the future is a lottery
For that, I dedicate my raps like an ex-voto, man

Here, you’re judged on your reputation
Mess up once, and everyday they'll piss on your doorstep
That’s the minimum tariff and watch out
The heavyweights transform the area into a stronghold
Frozen, the air becomes electric, there’s plenty of seats
Frozen concrete instead of an ice field
The kids wanna get out, but the “no"s come down like hammers
DSU grants get pumped into shitty artists

So much energy lost on unfounded prejudice
The financial decision makers' visions are full of shit
Meanwhile, dreams fall and flounder, some people rap
Rocks fly, stolen cars skid out of control
School is a shithole, fire extinguishers are emptied out in the halls
The hood becomes a hunting ground for detectives
Backs have eyes ‘cause the water is growing a reef
Reap the money, we’re playing dice in a dark coffin

It’s too much, guys shit on the Romeo complex
After a smoke, hotwire a car and have a rodeo
Life is rough, if you want a little fantasy
They put rubber in the hash and still sell it to you for khams alaf
You tell me, “It’s fine; it’s not too much”
But for tcherno, when a Hamidou has nothing, it’s a lot
I don’t know what I’m talking 'bout, I’m just a bastard
I had to celebrate my 20th birthday with three bottles of Valstar

The spot is hot tonight, who's the kingpin?
From the outset, the walls are reserved like parking spots
But who can understand when they have a full mène?
That someone at his wit’s end will fight back, fueled by hate

And that you’re not born programmed to do bad things
I don’t think about tomorrow, 'cause tomorrow is far away

How to Format Lyrics:

  • Type out all lyrics, even repeating song parts like the chorus
  • Lyrics should be broken down into individual lines
  • Use section headers above different song parts like [Verse], [Chorus], etc.
  • Use italics (<i>lyric</i>) and bold (<b>lyric</b>) to distinguish between different vocalists in the same song part
  • If you don’t understand a lyric, use [?]

To learn more, check out our transcription guide or visit our transcribers forum

About

Genius Annotation

Tomorrow Is Far Away

Metronome flows, beats with mechanical rhythms that seem impossible to break … Some songs are like trains and that of “Demain, c'est loin” only travels across desolate landscapes: dismantled car wrecks, concrete jungles, gangs of youths shooting in a bubble in the shadow of the towers. Twelve years later and the scene hasn’t changed. Yet we can’t help but revisit it, almost like a ritual, to make the same nine-minute journey in nine minutes, tirelessly.
Abcdr du son magazine in 2009

Ranked at number 1 in Abcdr du Son’s 100 Classiques du Rap Français, “Demain, c'est loin” from Marseillais group IAM is hip hop distilled to its purest form: a nine-minute long hook-less non-stop lyrical attack over a static, repetitive ten second loop mirroring their hopeless, unchanging existence in Marseille.

IAM celebrated the 20th anniversary of their founding by performing this song live in front of the pyramids in Egypt.

Q&A

Find answers to frequently asked questions about the song and explore its deeper meaning

Who is IAM?
Genius Answer

IAM (Invasion Arrivée de Mars) is a group formed in Marseille in 1989 and composed of rappers Akhenaton and Shurik'N; and producers Khéops, Imhotep and Kephren. Their lyrics are gritty but conscious, while their oriental aesthetic with allusions to Islam, ancient Egypt and feudal Japan draw comparisons to another famous group: Wu-Tang Clan.

Credits
Recorded At
Studio Méga, Suresnes, France
Release Date
March 18, 1997
Songs That Sample IAM - Demain, c’est loin (English Translation)
IAM - Demain, c’est loin (English Translation) Is A Translation Of
View IAM - Demain, c’est loin (English Translation) samples
Tags
Comments