Revolution Urbaine feat. Soprano - Ghetto

I was reminded by this song some while ago :P, and I need help understanding Soprano's verse.


Chez moi les gens sont de mauvais poils
Ont tous la dalle, vont tous à balle sur l'autoroute qui te mène au bagne,
Tout ça pour grossir leur compte épargne
La maille y'a que ça dans le crâne des p'tits frères, préfèrent le chemin de Lucifer, pourtant l'illicite ne t'allonges pas sur un hamac mais sur une civière.
Chez moi sa prie pour désamorcer son crâne, si on est froid, c'est peut-être parce que les flics aiment trop nous voir à poil,
Dans la zone c'est la ( ... ), quand je prend le la ( ... ), mais mon son dans ta clio &é tu conduiras une allemande.
J'ai le tempe trop c'est pour rouler sur le gun de la dalle de ma vie,
Donc si le rap est un jardin appelle moi Bernard Tapie,
Pour mes harbis, mes comocos ecko ou survet croco, Okk
A baiser l'état ensemble, un Rocco, faites moi la bise.
Ton ghetto c'est ma rime, ma vie, ma plume, ma crime, ma lune,
Ma couleur, ma douleur, mes larmes, mes rythmes, ma jeunesse &é ma tune.
Malgrès le manque d'aubaine, les Jean-Marie le Pen, les Ben Laden, Sopra la hyene &é sa Révolution Urbaine.

And I know who reminded you this The lyrics are mistaken sometimes!


Révolution Urbaine ft. Soprano - Ghetto

In my place people are in a bad mood,
All hungry, they all step on it on the freeway that leads to prison
Just to make their savings accounts bigger
Money, that's all our little brothers think about, they prefer Lucifer's path
But illicit stuff won't get you laying on a hamac, more like on a stretcher
In my place they pray to defuse their brains
We're cold, it's because cops love to see us naked way too much
In my zone, they kick up a fuss as soon as I win
Play my music in your Clio and it'll feel like you're driving a German car
The hard side of life tends to hold its gun to my head too often
So if rap is a garden, call me Bernard Tapie
For my Arabs, my Comorians wearing Ecko or Lacoste tracksuits
Fu*king the Nation all together like Rocco, kiss me on the cheeks
The ghetto is my rhymes, my life, my style, my crime, my moon
My colour, my pain, my tears, my hard times, my youth and my money
In spite of the lack of money, Jean-Marie Le Pen and Ben Laden
Sopran Baba's in his urban revolution

And it's a good thing that person reminded me or I wouldn't have paid attention to the lyrics of this song!

Et svp, explain how this translates to english!

J'ai le tempe trop c'est pour rouler sur le gun de la dalle de ma vie,

The hard side of life tends to hold its gun to my head too often

Merci!

As I said before the lyrics are mistaken sometimes, and this line is. The real words are:

J'ai la tempe trop souvent collée sur le gun de la dalle de ma vie
Literal translation: "My temple is too often stuck to the gun of my life's hunger."

"Dalle" means "hunger" in french slang, but here it means "hard times", "misery", it's an image. Literally the phrase sounds strange, so I tried to put it another way, but basically it means the same.