Morning, noon, and night — or rather Matin, Midi, Soir — Dabs paints a raw picture of nonstop street hustle. The rapper lets us ride shotgun through his block where loyalty is measured in calibers, cash, and designer labels. Every line crackles with adrenaline: Glocks get waved as casually as phone screens, police are openly cursed, and respect is earned at high speed. Luxury brands (Gucci, Valentino, Givenchy) flash like neon lights against gritty back-alleys, showing how fast money can turn survival into swagger. Dabs’ humor stays dark and cheeky, slipping in outrageous one-liners about romance, social media, even the German soccer team’s coach, to prove that in his world danger and jokes share the same pulse.
Beneath the bravado, though, the chorus hammers a simple truth: life in the block never clocks out. The repetition of “Matin, midi, soir” underlines a cycle that feels both empowering and imprisoning. By the end, you understand that the song is less a celebration of violence than an unfiltered diary entry from someone who grew up “dans le sale” — in the dirt — and learned to shine anyway. It is a gritty anthem of endurance, defiance, and restless ambition, served with a wink, a warning, and a bassline that refuses to sleep.