Eddy de Pretto’s “Kid” is a punchy conversation between generations, wrapped in a hypnotic beat and razor-sharp lyrics. Throughout most of the song, a stern voice (think of a dad, a coach, or society itself) barks out orders: “You’ll be manly, my kid!” The checklist is long and exhausting — sculpted muscles, bruised knuckles, money, power, and zero tears. Line after line, this narrator glorifies a cartoon version of masculinity, turning it up to almost ridiculous levels so we can see how heavy and outdated the armor really is.
Then the music flips. Eddy steps forward with a simple “Mais moi…” (“But me…”) and tears the rulebook apart. He admits he likes playing with the girls, doesn’t worship his own ego, and plans to speed-age the old voice until it finally fades away. In other words, “Kid” is both a satire and a protest: a catchy, fearless call to ditch toxic expectations and let every kid decide their own way to shine.