“Comme Adèle” plunges you into Sopico’s Parisian neighborhood, a place where skate-park laughter collides with sirens and streetlights. In rapid snapshots he recalls late-night writing sessions, risky hustles for cash, friends who disappeared, and chases that end with contraband flying into the Seine. The rapper flips between cinema and reality: he “makes his movie like Adèle,” imagining himself as a film star while still masked like a petty crook. References to the cult movie La Haine, a “crackman” at Gare du Nord, and tired crews “doing siestas” paint a gritty but vibrant portrait of life on the city’s edge.
Under the swagger is a pulse of nostalgia and resilience. “Mon quartier, ma cour de récré” repeats like a playground chant, reminding us that the streets where he grew up are both his battlefield and his sandbox. Every victory, every mistake, every scribbled lyric runs through his veins. Sopico turns these contradictions into music that is equal parts confession, tribute, and survival guide, inviting listeners to feel the raw hustle and daydreams that keep him moving forward.