INTERPOL Lyrics in English Maes

Below, I translated the lyrics of the song INTERPOL by Maes from French to English.
HRNN, Nino V
Life goes on
Omerta 47
At the bus stop
Our faces are flagged by Interpol
Blood on my Asics
I remember you were on the ground, pale
Two, three chicks
Or two, three cops questioning me
There's loads of flour
And loads of junkies call me Paul
Tonight I'm out
Need a Richard Mille before I'm thirty
I lost count of 30-kilo packs of hard
How to bloom among nettles? Ooh
The traffic is international, so imagine the sentence
I dodge the national police before I land in Fresnes
Ten grand at half-time
The pitch don't know unemployment
Gotta pay the sums or face interest and damage
The traffic is international, so imagine the sentence
I dodge the national police before I land in Fresnes
Ten grand at half-time
The pitch don't know unemployment
Stacks of bills
Guns piled up like in Top Boy
Only sawn-off shotguns
Always tooled up like a cowboy
Grey RS4, you ain't got time to scream
Before they touch your collar
Tell me who to trust
I hop back on the scooter, you won't be lucky
Tonight I'm out
Need a Richard Mille before I'm thirty
I lost count of 30-kilo packs of hard
How to bloom among nettles? Ooh
The traffic is international, so imagine the sentence
I dodge the national police before I land in Fresnes
Ten grand at half-time
The pitch don't know unemployment
Gotta pay the sums or face interest and damage
The traffic is international, so imagine the sentence
I dodge the national police before I land in Fresnes
Ten grand at half-time
The pitch don't know unemployment
Life goes on
Omerta 47, pew, pew, pew, pew
Lyrics and Translations Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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SONG MEANING

“INTERPOL” plunges us into the high-stakes universe of Maes, a young hustler who feels the police breathing down his neck while juggling ambition, danger and loyalty. The lyrics read like rapid-fire snapshots: blood on his sneakers, mountains of cash, sawn-off shotguns, scooters speeding through the night. Although the scenes are gritty, they reveal a restless drive for success—symbolised by the luxury Richard Mille watch he wants before turning thirty. At every corner he dodges national police and even Interpol, hinting at an illicit network that stretches far beyond his local “arrêt d’bus.”

Yet beneath the bravado lies a question that echoes through each chorus: “Comment fleurir parmi les orties?” (“How do you blossom among nettles?”). Maes contrasts the lure of easy money with the harsh reality of potential prison time, painting a portrait of survival where unemployment does not exist because the “terrain” (the streets) is always hiring. The track becomes both a celebration of street smarts and a cautionary tale about the heavy cost of an international hustle, making listeners feel the adrenaline rush and the existential weight of living life on the edge.

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