La petite voix Lyrics (English Translation) by OrelSan is a latest French song in the voice of OrelSan. Its music too is composed by singer while brand new La petite voix song lyrics are also written by OrelSan. This is a popular song among the people of United States of America. The song It is like a harsh conversation between him and his inner voice that keeps insulting and judging him. It calls him fake, a sellout, and a disappointment, tearing apart his choices, career, fans, and even family, until that angry inner voice completely takes over.
Paroles de La petite voix (English Translation) – OrelSan
[Single Verse]
Look at the truth, what you’ve become
See what you could have been, you’ve lost yourself
Stop pretending to be a straight man, nobody’s fooled
You’ve become what you hated at first
You’re just a piece of s*it, my little Aurélien, honestly, you disappointed me
Like you disappointed your parents when you failed your studies
But they can all go to hell, honestly, my little Aurélien
I’m the only one you need to listen to, honestly, my little Aurélien
Look where trying to please everyone has led you
They’re stealing your oxygen, you feel like you have a bar in your lungs
Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom, it’s your heart racing
Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom, Another panic attack
You don’t dare face your little problems so you hide
And you go to bed like during the controversies because you’re a coward
I always knew you were a coward but look what you’re wasting
You have all the things you dreamed of at half your age but
Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom, little b!tch
You’re just a fraud, you’re nothing, you’re hot air, you’re just a mirage
We don’t know if you’re the brain or the village idiot
We don’t know if you’re Mélenchon or LVMH’s wh*re
We don’t know if you’re woke, if you’re reactionary, if you’re left-wing, if you’re right-wing
You play the environmentalist and piss us off with your brand
We just know you’re fake like when you sing off-key
When you try to be a rapper, fake like your acting False
It’s obvious you love cash, stop acting like you’re simple, false
It’s obvious you’ve got an ego, stop acting humble, false
With your emo, lesbian, provincial teenage fringe
You should have given up rap instead of giving up Gringe, huh
In your songs, you’re a rebel who speaks the truth, huh
In interviews, you’re just a piece of s*it who keeps dodging, huh
You don’t talk about the real issues, you don’t dare criticize anything
Because all you want is to sell your limited editions
You’re just a derivative product, you’re just a b!tch in disguise
Your lyris are just poorly recited clichés
You have no commitment, no honor, no convictions
You’re just a frigid wh*re who never dares to take Position
Civilization, ba*tard, it’s a disaster
You make preachy music like your teacher dad
You make music for kids, for housewives
You make music to put Victoires de la Musique awards on your shelves
You ignored your loved ones for years to build a career
And you make music like you want to sleep with your mother
To think you made all those sacrifices to make s*it
I want to slap an innocent kid when I hear “La Quête”
It’s over, you’re down, you get crushed on every feature
You don’t like current music, you mix up all the artists
You refuse tons of features because deep down, you’re racist
You’ve brought more white people into rap than a white supremacist
Your audience is cops, teachers, accountants
Y There are so many white people in your audience, it’s like being in the mountains
There are so many victims in your audience, it reeks of Prozac
There are so many white people in your audience, it reeks of cheese
Your audience is disgusting, there aren’t any decent girls
There are only lost souls who dress like bums
Who take the worst pictures of you with their big d-fingers
Since they can’t afford a decent phone
OrelFan, haha, let me laugh, ba*tard
Look at the state of your fanbase, it’s a disaster
A bunch of s*its who know nothing about music, who don’t like rap
When it’s not sung by some little clown in a Carhartt
Otherwise, it reminds them that they’re afraid of getting mugged
I wipe my ass with their fan art, their words Desperate
All they do is criticize, it’s like they don’t want to like you
Like they’re just waiting for you to slip up so they can burn your CDs
And don’t pretend to love your city, it’s a mess
It’s dead, that’s why they call you “Caennais”
It’s full of hicks you can’t even stand
Yeah, you’re going to ruin your city like the Mbappés
Speaking of ruining, we need to talk about your b!tch
What’s the point of making it big if you’re sleeping with that?
I said “b!tch” but it’s worse: she’s your wife
What’s the point of being rich if you’re only going to buy cheap stuff?
With success, it’s like you’re hot
But you, you’re living a s*itty life with some trashy Japanese girl
What’s the point of making it big if you never get laid?
The last time you got laid, you ba*tard, you made a baby
Besides, that’s the ultimate trick to trap you
Before, she controlled you, now, she’s going to bleed you dry
All that to give birth to a privileged piece of s*it
With an absent father incapable of raising it
If I’m the baby, get out, Nanako, get out
The Normans, get out, France, get out
The fanbase, get out, your career, get out
Avnier, get out, Ablaye and Skread, get out
Healthy living, get out, conscience, get out
Your family, get out, OrelSan, get out
Basically, everyone get out except me
Seriously, fu*k San, now, make way for Sama
[Outro]
Sama, Sama, Sama, Sama, Sama, Sama, Sama, Sama
Sama, Sama, Sama, Sama, Sama, Sama, Sama, Sam
La petite voix (English Translation) Video
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La petite voix (English Translation) Lyrics Meaning
[Single Verse]
This verse is like a raw, unfiltered conversation with OrelSan’s inner voice, and it doesn’t hold back at all. It starts by forcing him to confront his current life and what he has become, pointing out how far he has strayed from his potential. The voice is relentless, saying he has lost himself entirely and is pretending to be something he’s not, specifically mocking his attempts to act like a straight man, which nobody believes anyway. It immediately hits him with guilt, comparing his current self to the disappointments he may have caused in his youth, like failing his studies and letting down his parents, though the voice quickly dismisses their opinions as irrelevant, insisting that he only needs to listen to it. The overall feeling is suffocating—the voice says that trying to please everyone has stolen his energy and leaves him panicked, anxious, and unable to deal with small problems. The references to his heartbeat and panic attacks show how deeply these thoughts are affecting him physically, almost as if the voice is controlling his emotional and bodily state.
The criticism gets sharper, targeting his cowardice. The voice scolds him for hiding from minor challenges and taking the easy way out during controversies, essentially calling out every instance where he avoided responsibility or confrontation. It points out that he’s wasting his life despite having achieved many things that he once dreamed about, amplifying his sense of self-doubt. The repetition of the heartbeat and the insult of “little b!tch” reflects the inner voice’s mix of anger and disbelief at how much potential is being squandered. It doesn’t hold back when it accuses him of being a fraud, a mirage, someone who is all style with no substance. The uncertainty about whether he’s “the brain or the village idiot” highlights the confusion and contradiction in how others perceive him, and perhaps how he perceives himself, trapped between being clever and foolish, sincere and fake.
The voice then attacks his public image and persona, questioning his motivations and authenticity. It criticizes the way he shifts between political and social positions, from appearing woke to being reactionary, or pretending to be an environmentalist while also capitalizing on branding. The inner voice sees all these acts as performative, fake, and shallow, likening his attempts at music, rap, and acting to failures because they’re done without sincerity. There’s a clear frustration here with the ego and the public mask he wears, calling out the contradictions between his love for money and his pretend humility. Even his personal style—emo influences, teenage rebellion, provincial traits—is criticized, showing that the inner voice doesn’t let any part of his identity escape scrutiny. It makes him feel like abandoning Gringe was a mistake and that the rebellion he shows in songs is completely absent in real-life behavior, portraying him as someone who only acts bold on stage but hides behind excuses in interviews and daily life.
The criticism then becomes more pointed toward his artistic work. The inner voice says that he avoids real issues, that his music is a product designed for sales rather than truth, and that his lyrics are cliché, derivative, and shallow. It attacks his motivations, suggesting that he only makes music for awards, recognition, or to maintain an image, rather than for any real passion or cause. Even the sacrifices he has made are framed as wasted effort, implying that the years spent building a career have not produced meaningful or impactful results. This section conveys a deep frustration with the tension between what he claims to be—an honest, rebellious artist—and what he actually does in practice, showing how the inner voice is obsessed with exposing hypocrisy and lack of integrity.
The inner voice extends its attack to the audience and fanbase, portraying them as almost as disappointing as the artist himself. The fans are described as uneducated about music, shallow, and superficial, consuming his work for trivial reasons. There is ridicule in how the fans dress, behave, and interact with him, reflecting a larger criticism of the world he inhabits and the type of people who support him. The voice sees them as a reflection of his own failures, showing how he has built a career surrounded by the wrong influences, which in turn fuels his own sense of inadequacy. There’s a mix of disgust, frustration, and disbelief at the contrast between his popularity and the quality or depth of his support system, which feeds the inner voice’s relentless assault on him.
Next, the inner voice attacks his personal life and choices outside music. It criticizes his relationships, suggesting that romantic and family decisions are poorly made and reflect immaturity or selfishness. There’s anger at his life decisions, including the suggestion that he’s living in a way that is unfulfilling despite financial success, and that past relationships have trapped or manipulated him. Parenthood is depicted as another failure, implying that he is incapable of fulfilling responsibilities and that even when he tries, it’s overshadowed by selfishness and absent guidance. This adds another layer to the inner voice’s condemnation, showing that the critique is not limited to career or personality but spans his entire life. It attacks not just how he lives, but the ripple effects on those around him, from partners to children, emphasizing failure at all levels.
The verse also criticizes his origins, environment, and hometown. His city is described as lifeless and full of people he can’t respect, adding to the sense of failure and frustration. He is depicted as someone who has affected his surroundings negatively, leaving a mark of disappointment not only on himself but also on the environment he comes from. The voice highlights the irony of trying to succeed while neglecting roots, relationships, and responsibilities. It’s as if every achievement is being undercut by a broader sense of failure and social disconnect, leaving him isolated and under constant self-judgment.
Finally, the inner voice moves toward a sort of cleansing or isolation. It tells everyone and everything to leave—family, career, fans, even his own conscience—so that only the voice remains. This is symbolic of stripping away distractions, masks, and external pressures, leaving only brutal honesty. The voice positions itself as the only true singerity over him, demanding complete attention and control. It’s like a forced rebirth, where the old self, all failures, and false facades are erased to make way for a confrontation with the core identity. This part shows the intensity of self-conflict: OrelSan is surrounded by guilt, anxiety, frustration, and societal pressures, and the inner voice represents the ultimate test of self-reflection, pushing him to face everything he’s been avoiding. The verse is relentless, exhausting, and merciless, but it’s also a moment of intense clarity, as the voice isolates what truly matters in his life—his own recognition and reckoning.
[Outro]
The repeated word marks the emergence of a new identity, signaling focus, presence, and the shift from self-criticism to a fresh start.
FAQs
Q. Who has sung La petite voix (English Translation) song?
A. La petite voix (English Translation) song is sung by OrelSan.
Q. Who wrote La petite voix (English Translation) lyrics?
A. La petite voix (English Translation) lyrics are penned by OrelSan.
Q. Who has given the music of La petite voix (English Translation) song?
A. La petite voix (English Translation) music is composed and produced by OrelSan.
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