Song meaning of #JeSuisPasséChezSo2023 by Sofiane

Ah, the masterpiece that is "#JeSuisPasséChezSo2023" by Sofiane. This song is like a sonic explosion of pure audacity and swag. Sofiane wakes up and demands to be notified when everything is finished, because let's face it, he's got better things to do than deal with the mere mortals. He's all about that hustle and going for it without breaking a sweat. He's ready to receive his medals, win cups, and free the troops because, hey, franchising is so chic these days. Don't mess with him, because he's the king of the studios and the streets. If you're guilty and don't want to be caught, just deny it like a pro. Sofiane is all about making moves, turning one successful venture into ten. He's a mogul, a Falcon on the rise. And guess what? Next year, he's going to Cannes, casually depositing his dope beats. He's got blood-red paintballs and a gigantic rainbow-colored Daytona watch. Yeah, he might have gained some weight and his hands might be in casts, but that won't stop him from exposing all the traitors who weren't really on his side. So what if he's tired of making the same mistakes? He's tired of their nonsense. He's achieved a million albums sold and a billion streams, while you're there asking, "What have you done?" Crime doesn't faze him, he just remixes your miss, indulges in Off-White, Netflix, and whatnot. Sofiane takes the hits and keeps moving with the people. And everyone is watching him over there, in awe of his greatness. They love him like crazy, like a soldier or a freakin' movie star. He's on a mission to save his kids from nightmares and start his journey in the fire and end up somewhere else entirely. Oh, and did I mention that he hangs out with Reda Kateb at Hermès and Lyna Khoudri at Chopard? Yeah, no big deal. Sofiane casually picks up "kichta" from the "cafégui" (whatever that means), while occasionally having enemies he can't even identify. He's got bundles of cash that make you regret life decisions and he's the one who determines if dogs will bark like their fathers. They messed everything up, so he's leaving that little den of his, angry pack in tow, ready to break barriers on Monday. As for those stars dreaming of his career, they can dream on. Sofiane flirts with the edge of loss, touches it lightly, barely tests it. He collects your freedom, cashes your paycheck, and walks away with the rest, leaving you wondering, "What's up?" He enters the chicane like Verstappen, even capable of taking over the country if they let him work. The "patate" (whatever that is) is coming for you if you let yourself get slapped. They're all disguised like the SWAT team while you're busy doing squats. There's still "bakhaw" in the Nescafé box. Scuderia, Puderia, Mentalidad, whatever that means. Sofiane has both hands in "shlata gant d'salidad" (I don't even want to know). Watch out on the left, he's coming from far, far away like Hamilton in AMG Deutsche Qualität. He's all about the classics being old news, he wants to talk about money when he wakes up. He's on Melrose, he's the future. Villa rive gauche, canton of Genève (yeah, he's fancy like that). They think they're rich, strong, and powerful, but they're just dead in a bottomless pit. Every hour, every day, every life without them means nothing. Don't act like a narcotics dealer, brother, you're dying for a lousy 800 euros. Sofiane has "machtoc" and "one", both hands in "wari", and a "kichta" tucked underneath. And hey, 200 bucks is no small change. It's a "tahan" generation, only "mibouns" (again, not sure what that means). They take everything, even the not-so-fresh salad. Don't talk to him about luck at noon, he's the badass Arab of France. He's back, but seriously, what the hell is happening? He's still controlling mothers and "Dracofeu" (I have no idea what that is). These people are fakers, traitors, so don't mess with them. "Affranchis 2.23, Cartel d'Azazga." You got the message, people. Sofiane has spoken, and he's not to be messed with. Je suis passé chez So! And that's that.