SAMA Lyrics (English Translation) – OrelSan

SAMA (English Translation) Lyrics Meaning

[Intro]
The opening feels like OrelSan calling out people directly, almost like a drill sergeant or teacher mocking a lazy crowd. He keeps repeating “Sama,” which sounds like a chant or a trigger word that builds tension. When he calls everyone “losers,” he’s not just insulting them—he’s forcing them to face how stuck and fake their lives feel. He’s frustrated that people keep pretending everything’s fine, even when they’re burned out and empty. It’s like he’s saying, “Why do you keep living this way and lying about being okay?” He wants listeners to wake up from their routine numbness.

[Single Verse]
The verse is a long, explosive rant where OrelSan pours out all his anger at society, hypocrisy, and the fake behavior he sees everywhere. He starts by describing how most people live miserable lives, working meaningless jobs just to make rich, emotionless bosses even richer. He mocks how workers lie about being “fine” even though they’re exhausted, and how life feels repetitive and hollow. The mention of luxury brands like Loro Piana highlights the ridiculous gap between the rich and the poor—people work their whole lives so someone else can enjoy expensive clothes.

He then talks about how tired he is of “haters” and people who ruin others’ energy, fake life coaches who pretend to help, and greedy entrepreneurs who just want personal data. He’s also sick of dumb athletes, wannabe cool kids, and people who constantly switch identities to fit trends. He sees Paris as full of weak people who just follow the crowd, and his frustration explodes into dark humor and shock lines—he uses them not to glorify violence or hate, but to show how deep his disgust runs toward the emptiness around him.

When he goes after celebrities, influencers, and rich kids, he’s calling out people who act important while doing nothing useful. He’s mocking fake spirituality too, joking about yoga and “chakras” as another symbol of people pretending to be deep while chasing status. His anger toward Parisians, public transport, and shops is exaggerated but symbolic—it’s not about literal hatred; it’s about feeling trapped in a fake, consumer-driven environment where everything feels commercial and soulless.

He moves on to criticize corrupt politicians who talk about morals but only care about their next meal or promotion. He compares them to people obsessed with their reflections, implying that modern society is selfish and shallow. His harsh comment about gay men who look alike isn’t meant as a homophobic attack—it’s him venting about narcissism, people dating copies of themselves because they’re obsessed with image and sameness.

Then he switches targets again, attacking “geeks,” podcasters, and streamers who talk trash online. He sees them as cowards hiding behind screens, pretending to have power but unable to face real conflict. The violent and vulgar threats here show his frustration with the digital age—how people spread hate but take no real risks.

When he insults the media and “woke influencers,” he’s mocking how everyone wants to teach others but forgets their own contradictions. The moment money or sponsorship shows up, all their morals disappear. He hates how social causes are treated like fashion statements, not beliefs. His message is: people pretend to be good and aware, but it’s all for clout.

Next, he lashes out at teenagers drowning in depression and social media stress. He’s cruel in tone, but underneath the shock value, he’s pointing out how people publicly wallow in sadness for attention instead of finding purpose. He sees fake pain and overexposure everywhere. When he mocks rappers who make the same music, he’s frustrated that the art form has become repetitive and driven by money rather than creativity.

His dig at French people watching reality TV or apartment shows represents boredom and lack of real passion—people escape into meaningless entertainment because their lives feel empty. He sees society as trapped in consumer habits, from low-paid workers to executives who cheat the system. Even when he talks about people going to movies or drinking, it’s all about trying to fill the emotional void with distractions.

When he comments on people’s fashion or appearance, calling them “rednecks” or “poor,” he’s not truly saying poverty is deserved—it’s his exaggerated way of expressing how tasteless and fake people seem, how they all follow trends blindly. Then he flips the idea, saying even rich people are miserable, so maybe being poor is better than being rich and depressed. That contradiction shows he’s just fed up with everyone’s nonsense, rich or poor.

He also takes aim at the younger generation, mocking how they call everyone “boomers” but aren’t any better. He thinks they act unique but are all clones doing the same things online. To him, being “young” isn’t a big deal anymore because they’ve lost creativity and independence. They only chase numbers—likes, views, followers—and it’s killing originality in every art form. His warning is that the obsession with trends and copying success will destroy real culture, from music to fashion.

Later, he returns to his arrogant, ironic persona, saying he’s surrounded by beautiful women who’ll probably turn against him later. He’s joking about fame and relationships—how quickly admiration turns to blame. His comment about people blaming others for their choices ties into his overall theme: everyone wants to avoid responsibility.

When he mentions Nazis and macho men, he attacks hateful groups and fake tough guys directly. He makes it clear he doesn’t want to be associated with extremists. He calls them cowards hiding behind ideologies or fake masculinity. He ridicules them for being scared of women and uses vulgar, absurd imagery to humiliate them, exposing their insecurity.

In the final lines, he talks about being “inside your head,” showing how his raw honesty can mess with listeners’ minds. He sees himself as someone who tells harsh truths, even if people hate him for it. The repeated “Sama” becomes his signature, almost like a chaotic chant that represents rebellion and madness. His last lines are full of arrogance and dark humor—he’s unapologetic, saying he’ll never say sorry for his behavior or opinions. It’s like he’s saying, “After me, the world can burn.” The song ends with exhaustion, fury, and a twisted kind of freedom, where he accepts being hated because at least he’s real in a fake world.