🌊 “Noyé” – which means “Drowned” – feels like a midnight confession shouted from the rooftops of Paris. Hatik looks back on scarred streets, empty wallets and restless nights, then fast-forwards to flashing cameras and platinum dreams. She celebrates climbing from the curb to the clouds yet admits the view is lonely: money cannot quiet a buzzing mind, and fame cannot wipe away guilt for the pain her rise may have caused her loved ones.
Behind every boast sits a blunt truth. Hatik taught herself to “swim” through poverty, rejection and self-doubt, refusing to ask for help even when the bank was calling. Now, surrounded by fake smiles and sharp knives, she promises to share every last euro with her family, leave a mark bigger than a stadium statue and remind the world that real wealth is love. “Noyé” is part victory lap, part therapy session – a raw, poetic reminder that success can still feel like drowning unless the people who really know your name are there to pull you back to shore.