Learn French With Gims with these 23 Song Recommendations (Full Translations Included!)

Parisienne is Gims’s glittery love letter to a woman who smashes every postcard cliché of Paris. Instead of posing under the Eiffel Tower, she breezes through green lights, grabs the wheel when he is tipsy, and dims the lamps to set her own scene. Beautiful on his phone yet always just out of reach, she “pulls the strings” while he feels tethered like a dog on a leash, worried she will vanish as fast as money.

Over a cocktail of Afrobeats bounce and street-smart swagger, Gims and La Mano 1.9 flaunt fat stacks and wild nights along the Champs-Élysées. Yet the chorus spills the truth: beneath the bravado, he simply longs for a down-to-earth Parisian who is unimpressed by tourist traps and status symbols. The song flips between flashy celebration and genuine yearning, turning the hunt for authentic love into an irresistible party anthem.

Ever wondered what happens when the fairy-tale glow of a relationship flickers and you suddenly can’t tell if the magic is real or just smoke? “Est-ce Que Tu M’aimes?” plunges us into that dizzy moment. Gims starts with the hope of seeing light at the end of the tunnel, celebrates an effortless connection where even a raised eyelash was a secret code, then watches the sky crack open with doubts. The repeated question “Do you love me?” becomes an intense echo chamber where each answer is a shaky “I don’t know.”

Throughout the song, vivid images swirl: inky tattoos on eyelids to keep a lover’s face forever in sight, a wedding ring that feels more like handcuffs, and a painful collision with a “glass ceiling” of expectations. Gims paints love as a thrilling game of hunter and prey, but also a storm that leaves both players soaked and shivering. It is a confession of vulnerability, a tug-of-war between commitment and freedom, and a reminder that sometimes the hardest person to understand in a relationship is yourself.

“Après Vous Madame” drops us right into a sparkling, nocturnal Paris where Gims and Soolking roll up in rumbling Audis, pockets stacked with every color of cash. The chorus line “Après vous, madame” acts like a polite wink: even amid roaring engines, popping bottles and flashing city lights, they still play the gentleman. The lyrics celebrate the rush of nightlife—the thrill of arriving in style, remaking the world with a handful of party-goers, and chasing that dreamy dolce vita while money keeps flowing and the bass keeps thumping.

Beneath the swagger, the song hints at a code of honor: hustle first, treat guests with respect, keep the fun smooth so no one feels the need to “call the police.” It blends French street slang, Arabic greetings, and Spanish flirtation, echoing the artists’ multicultural roots and turning the city into a shared playground. In short, it is a neon-lit invitation to live large, stay courteous, and let the night sparkle as loudly as the cars roaring through it.

Picture this: Gims is on yet another sleepless night in a hotel room, surrounded by the buzzing chaos of fame, flights and phone calls. Even with a “train d’vie de fou” (a crazy lifestyle), his thoughts drift to one person who is miles away. The verses paint a movie-like scene where the superstar’s glittering schedule cannot muffle the quiet ache of missing someone. Every city lights up, every crowd screams his name, yet his loneliness grows louder than the applause.

The chorus is his confession: “J’suis trop sentimental.” Being overly emotional is both his superpower and his downfall. He and his lover keep playing hide-and-seek, “on se déguise… on se fuit,” pretending they can move on, but they always circle back. It is messy, possibly “pas très légal,” and definitely addictive. The song is a cocktail of vulnerability, stubborn attachment and late-night regret, showing that behind Gims’ larger-than-life persona beats a heart that cannot let go. Listeners are invited to dance, sing and, above all, feel every shimmering heartbeat along with him.

“BABY” by Franco-Congolese powerhouse GIMS is a fiery love declaration wrapped in dance-floor energy. From the very first line, he promises “Baby, I will always be there,” lighting up the track with the same spark as the relationship’s first glance. The chorus repeats like a heartbeat, capturing that intoxicating rush you feel when passion and devotion collide.

But beneath the catchy hook lies a bittersweet confession. While GIMS is ready to surrender to love and “just stay in your arms,” he also admits that desire alone cannot keep a couple afloat. When he sings, “I opened my heart, but you lost the keys,” the mood shifts—suddenly the relationship feels like a haunted house echoing with past mistakes. In short, “BABY” is a pulsating mix of hope, vulnerability, and hard-earned wisdom, reminding listeners that love can burn bright, yet still needs more than fire to survive.

Zombie takes us straight into the turbulent mind of GIMS, where reason, conscience and sub-conscious argue like characters in a late-night debate. The verses paint a foggy landscape of self-doubt: he feels “manipulated by another,” trapped in negative thoughts, and torn between the urge to fly free and the reflex to shut down. Each sharp “Stop” is both a plea and a command, showing how quickly confidence can flip into paranoia when you start believing the world is nothing but shadows.

The chorus—“Je suis un zombie” (“I’m a zombie”)—is a blunt confession of emotional numbness. It’s a metaphor for living on autopilot, building dreams “dans l’vide” (in the void) while hope slips through your fingers. Yet the song is not just gloomy; it’s a wake-up call. By urging us to “retire ces chaînes” (remove these chains) and let the spirit “s’envoler” (soar), GIMS reminds listeners that even when our inner voices clash, we still have the power to break free, reconnect with our true selves and bring color back to a world that suddenly feels less dark.

SPIDER is like stepping into a glittering comic-book panel where GIMS and DYSTINCT speed through life in a cherry-red Ferrari Spider. Luxury brands fly past—Cartier, Rolex, LV, Bottega—while private jets touch down in Lausanne and showcases light up Dubai. All this excess is served with playful bravado, because every flex is really meant to stun the woman he keeps calling hayati (“my life”). Through French, Arabic and a dash of Flemish slang, the duo paint a jet-set postcard that shouts, “You’re my trophy, climb in, let’s race the summer.”

Yet beneath the roaring engine there’s a softer hum. GIMS admits that love and money are forever intertwined, and he wonders if too much affection is another kind of overload. He even warns that bringing his muse back to the old neighborhood would “chambouler le rrain-té” (shake up the block). The result is a song that mixes swagger with self-awareness: a celebration of ambition, cross-cultural flair, and the beautiful chaos that erupts when romance rides shotgun in a life lived at maximum speed.

Gims takes us on an emotional roller-coaster in Brisé – a track whose very title means “Broken.” The Congolese-French star sings from the raw perspective of someone who has been betrayed by a lover yet still struggles with conflicting feelings of love and hate. Throughout the lyrics he paints vivid images: secret stabs “in the dark,” tears falling on his shoulders, and the haunting smile that gives away a lie. These snapshots show how easily trust can shatter when the heart leads the brain.

Behind the catchy melody lies a powerful message about self-deception and awakening. Gims admits he “veiled his own face,” choosing not to see warning signs, because “the brain follows the heart.” By the end of the song, he is ready to extinguish the flames of pain “by the flames” themselves – hinting at reclaiming strength through the very fire that burned him. Brisé is a bittersweet anthem for anyone who has loved blindly, been hurt deeply, and still hopes to heal.

Tu Vas Me Manquer ("I Will Miss You") finds Congolese-French star Gims standing at the window, heart in hand, waiting for someone who will never return.

With vivid images of silent mornings and sleepless nights, the singer paints the heavy routine of loss: staring through glass, hearing a voice that exists only in memory, and measuring time by the echo of an absent loved one. The chorus repeats like a heartbeat – Tu vas me manquer – capturing the stubborn hope that the door might still open, even as memories begin to fade. Gims turns personal grief into a universal anthem, reminding us how love can leave a space so big that every hour feels longer and every room feels quieter, yet hope can keep us waiting just a little longer.

“Appelle ta copine” (Call Your Girlfriend) throws us straight into a neon-lit night out with GIMS, the Congolese-French hit-maker who knows how to turn any city street into a dance floor. The pulsing poum, tcha, tcha beat is the soundtrack to a smooth invitation: tell your friend to tag along, because tonight is all about chilling in style. GIMS compliments a mysterious “beauté assassine” (killer beauty), cruises in a Ferrari, and casually reminds us that his music is so catchy it makes “even the racists dance.” It is playful, boastful, and irresistibly upbeat.

Beneath the swagger, the song celebrates confidence and freedom. GIMS puts the listener “on the top of the pile,” promising VIP treatment and urging everyone to drop their worries, show their best moves, and seize the moment. The result is a flirty anthem of nightlife, luxury, and unstoppable rhythm—perfect for practicing French while you imagine city lights flashing past the windshield.

“Changer” is GIMS’s late-night confession booth, set to music. The Congolese-French superstar drops the show-business mask and speaks directly to a loved one, admitting to lies, temptations, and the distance between his words and actions. Fame, money, and endless desires have pulled him away from family life, yet whenever darkness falls he sits alone, counts his flaws, and clings to a tiny spark of hope. In that stillness he promises himself one thing: I’m going to change.

Behind the catchy melody lies a universal struggle. GIMS shows how easy it is to lose yourself in success, to mistake enemies for friends, and to let greed “destroy the heart of others.” At the same time, he reminds us that self-awareness is the first step toward redemption. The song is both a heartfelt apology and a motivational anthem, inviting listeners to pause, reflect, and believe that transformation is always possible—even if it starts with nothing more than an “atom of hope” in the dark.

Sois Pas Timide is GIMS’s playful invitation to drop the shy act and dive into the high-energy world he inhabits. Over a pulsing beat, the Congolese-French star pulls up in a six-figure car, walks past the velvet rope into the VIP zone, and catches the eye of someone who pretends to be timid. He teases her: he can see through the modest smile, knows the attraction is mutual, and uses his undeniable charisma to prove it.

Beneath the swagger, the song hides a sweeter core. All the flashy lines — the enemies, the bulletproof windows, the roaring engine — exist for one reason: to keep his “bébé” close. He calls her his “oasis in this arid capital,” promising eternity at each other’s side. The message is simple yet irresistible: don’t be shy, step into the spotlight, and enjoy the ride together.

GIMS invites us on a reflective journey where the horizon symbolizes everything we long for yet cannot quite see. He questions our habit of asking the same questions while expecting new answers, exposing the human tendency to believe we are always right and to look only in one direction. As he tries to "stop time" and peek beyond that distant line, the artist wrestles with nostalgia for school-day innocence, the weight of personal flaws, and the frustrating belief that “hell is always other people.”

The song balances realism and hope: GIMS knocks on metaphorical doors seeking change, comes face to face with his ego, and begs the sky for forgiveness. Despite disillusionment with changing social codes and digital facades, he ultimately chooses to move forward, determined to believe there is something brighter over that horizon. "HORIZON" is both a confession and a rallying cry—an anthem for anyone who has ever wished for a fresh start while carrying the echoes of the past on their shoulders.

NINAO plunges us into a nocturnal world where GIMS strides in, hood up and entourage in tow, turning every head the moment he appears. The verses paint a vivid picture of superstar life: luxury cars gleam under club lights, bodyguards clear the path, and the strum of a guitar instantly makes the crowd shuffle in tight little steps. Yet between the flexes and the VIP passes, he keeps whispering to a distant lover, "Mon amour, j'vais rentrer tard," hinting at the personal sacrifices hidden behind the flashing cameras.

Beneath the swagger lies a slice of vulnerability. GIMS admits to rash mistakes, sleepless anger, and hearts he did not mean to break while racing from show to show. The song balances Congolese rhythms and French rap bravado to reveal the price of non-stop fame: always on the move, forever booked, forever watched. NINAO is both a victory lap and a confession, reminding listeners that even the most untouchable star still wrestles with regret once the music fades.

Je Me Tire means "I’m leaving", and Gims sings it like a runaway note pinned to fame’s front door. Tired of constant attention, interviews, and people grabbing at his phone, the Congolese-French rapper imagines disappearing to a place where no one cares about his stage name or lyrics. He admits that success has hardened his heart, that he sometimes self-despises, and that the so-called "life of an artist" can feel like an emotional trap. Calling himself a target, he dreams of reinventing his identity – “changing my name like Cassius Clay” – to protect what little peace he has left.

Underneath the catchy hook lies a quiet plea for solitude and self-preservation. When Gims repeats Je me tire he is not snubbing fans; he is fighting for his mental health. Rather than partying in luxury, he would rather find an anonymous corner of the world where he never has to pick up a microphone again and where everyone is “s’en tape de ma life” – totally indifferent to his story. The song turns a simple act of walking away into a powerful anthem about boundaries, burnout, and the universal right to start over.

Imagine gliding into glitzy Saint-Tropez on a sparkling yacht, designer bags in hand and an accountant already on board to keep track of the constant money transfers. That is the cinematic backdrop of Gims’s "Saint Tropez". The Congolese-French superstar paints a picture of victory laps through luxury: arriving in Fendi, leaving in Louis Vuitton, dancing old-school steps while bank alerts keep chiming. It is a toast to the sweet life on the Côte d’Azur, where success is flaunted as casually as a new pair of sunglasses.

Yet beneath the champagne bubbles lies a hint of disillusion. The recurring line "On dit ça, ouais, mais dans le fond c’est pas ce qu’on veut" (We say that, yeah, but deep down it is not what we want) reveals a tug-of-war between surface glamour and deeper desires. By repeating "Tu ne me toucheras plus jamais" (You will never touch me again), Gims hints at past wounds and guarded emotions that even luxury cannot heal. The song becomes both a victory parade and a quiet confession, inviting listeners to groove along while questioning what real fulfillment looks like.

“Entre Nous C’est Mort” is GIMS’s fiery break-up anthem where every beat stamps a clear message: this romance is finished, full stop. Switching playfully between French and the Spanish word muerte, the Congolese-French star paints the picture of a lover who has finally reached her limit. She lists the partner’s betrayals—from ogling her friends to ruining everything they built—then slams the door with a chorus that repeats like a verdict: “Between us, it’s dead.” The song mixes sharp humor, raw frustration, and a hint of swagger, turning heartbreak into an empowering declaration of independence.

Listen closely and you will feel the narrator’s relief as much as her rage. She refuses to rewind the clock or look for pretty words; instead, she claims her dignity and walks out “with class,” leaving the unfaithful partner to his own regrets. Behind the catchy hook lies a universal lesson: self-respect wins the day, and sometimes the healthiest love story is the one you end.

Look up at the ciel (sky)! In this hypnotic track, GIMS sings about a woman so dazzling she seems to have “fallen from the heavens.” He calls her a magician because she twists reality: one second he is trapped in a nightmare of debt, the next he “regains his sight” inside a flashy green Ferrari. The repeated chant “Elle est tombée du ciel” captures that surreal rush of love that feels impossible, risky, and wonderfully unreal all at once.

Yet beneath the glitter GIMS slips in a life lesson. He confesses to lies, doubts, and finally spotting his “plus grand défaut” – believing life would bend to his wishes. Love, he realizes, is built on choices and honesty rather than illusion. So while this romance ends, he chooses to keep its “plus belles images” as a souvenir. CIEL mixes dream-like fantasy with self-reflection, reminding us that even the most magical love stories must eventually land back on solid ground.

“Le Pire” dives into GIMS’s troubled mind as he flips through grim news on TV and wonders why the world feels so upside down. The Congolese-French artist sings that the real tragedy is not open cruelty, but the silence of bystanders who pretend to hesitate while doing nothing. With a bittersweet image — telling kids the sea is salty because “the fish have cried too much” — he highlights how hard it is to explain injustice to the next generation.

Across the track, GIMS calls out hypocrisy (people preaching morals in luxury fur coats), economic gaps, and our collective loss of direction. He admits feeling invisible unless he does something extreme, then warns that the worst is forgetting to live and recognize what is happening around us. “Le Pire” is both a personal confession and a wake-up call, urging listeners to break the silence, reclaim empathy, and make the most of the time we still have.

Gims and Vianney unite their very different voices in La Même to create a fearless anthem of individuality. The Congolese-French rapper and the French singer admit they are “un pêle-mêle, un mélange” – a jumbled mix of influences, tastes and contradictions. Instead of squeezing themselves into tidy little boxes, they zigzag through life, shaking hands with everyone, loving both Jacques Brel and American R&B, and wearing dark glasses so no one can guess their next move. The catchy hook “Si je vous gêne, bah c’est la même” roughly means “If I bother you, tough luck – it’s all the same to me,” and it turns the song into a playful shrug at anyone who tries to judge or categorize them.

At its heart, the track is a celebration of freedom. The lyrics insist that envy comes before opinions and that true liberty enters your life when you stop worrying about what others think. By blending rap, pop and Afro-inspired rhythms, La Même doesn’t just preach openness – it sounds like it. The result is an uplifting reminder that every human is made of “mille boîtes” – a thousand little boxes – and none of them can ever be big enough to hold our full, complicated selves.

🎶 Welcome to “Warano Style,” a swagger-packed anthem where Gims celebrates his journey from the bustling streets of Paris to the vibrant heart of Congo. The chant Meugiwaranéo blends his nicknames (Meugi, Warano) into a catchy rallying cry, setting the tone for lyrical victory laps about platinum hits, luxury rides (Pagani, Ferrari, Murciélago) and the golden touch that turns every track into a hit. Amid the bragging, he salutes Sexion d’Assaut, Wati B, and cities across Africa, grounding his triumph in loyalty, community and cultural pride.

At its core, the song is a motivational flex: believe in your talent, silence the skeptics and give everything, because “c’est mon année” – this is my year. Gims positions himself as a role model for his “sistas,” warns haters to “faire gaffe,” and invites listeners to stride into their own spotlight with the same fearless energy. The result is a feel-good fusion of self-confidence and celebration, wrapped in rapid-fire wordplay and Afro-Parisian rhythms that will have you shouting “Warano!” right along with him.

Game Over throws you straight into a battle of wits where nobody wants to lose face. In a playful back-and-forth, Gims and Vitaa admit they are experts at heartbreak: he confesses he lies, disappears, and is “not a lover,” while she warns that girls like her make guys like him cry. Each verse is a warning label disguised as swagger. They parade their flaws, boast about mind-games, and predict exactly how the other will beg once the romance collapses. It is a catchy, cinematic showdown that turns a toxic relationship into an exhilarating verbal duel.

Beneath the bravado, the song highlights the futility of power struggles in love. Both singers know the ending is already written, yet they keep pressing the buttons just to shout Game Over first. Their playful insults, pop-culture references, and rhythmic punchlines make the track feel like a high-stakes video game where the only prize is leaving before you get left. The lesson? When love is treated like a competition, nobody really wins.

Reste is a poetic tug-of-war between devotion and doubt. Gims, the Congolese-French hitmaker, teams up with Sting to paint a nighttime landscape where love glows like the moon, sparks like fire in the rain, and blooms like a flower in the desert. The singer is mesmerized by a woman who both lights up his world and steals his sleep, leaving him to “roll the dice and take his chances” while he watches the sky for signs that her feelings are still there.

At the heart of the song is the haunting chorus « Mais tu iras où si jamais je m’en vais ? » – Where will you go if I leave? This looping question uncovers a deep fear of separation: he follows her footsteps like a shadow, terrified she might vanish. The dual voices and bilingual lyrics mirror the push-and-pull of their bond – hope versus anxiety, closeness versus distance. In the end, Reste feels like a passionate plea to freeze a perfect moment before it slips away, reminding listeners that love’s brightest light often shines in life’s darkest hours.