Teska Artiljerija - Sinovatz Übersetzung ins Englische

Teska Artiljerija

Sinovatz torima, teška artiljerija
smrdim na ulje k'o sirova mašinerija.
U odmazdi, protiv MC afteršejvova
ustajali predež, moja aroma terapija.
U stomaku kiselina,vidi - parfimerija
brza hrana, plastika, suva bižuterija.
Umesto kafane u fazonu je picerija
od sve te inspiracije overio bi Sterija.
Reči od olova sada čuju se sa sterea
mikrofon, ironija, gvožđe, mikrofonija.
Držim se iako sve je kao španska serija
bezbroj epizoda, kvazi umetnost, galerija.
Reperi se napili od likera i šerija
i skupili se na gomilu kao mafija
a ovde smo ih sačekali samo ker i ja
i u krvi 6 promila - rakija domaća.
U teranju smo obojica, biće karanja.
Do guše mi došla vaša gistro smaranja.
Geto krimi priče zbog par šamaranja
zbog trafike pljačke neka teška kajanja.
A ja trčao sam gajbi brzo kao furija
ier pukla me na ulici ta inspiracija.
Iz prve ruke stigla mi je informacija
rep se prodaje za pare, baš kao murija!
I zato do mikrofona brzo žurim ja
da izrešetam 100 bitova vrućim mecima.
Kamuflaža, oštri zubi, čeka misija
iz sporednih ulica prava geto špurija!
Teška artiljerija, verbalna municija
Ako vi vladate scenom onda ja sam opozicija
Jebeš kriminalce koji postanu policija
I jebeš emsije što se čmare klincima
Teška artiljerija, verbalna municija
Ako vi vladate scenom onda ja sam opozicija
Jebeš kriminalce koji postanu policija
I jebeš repere s napuderisanim licima!
Reči u rafalima, nastala konfuzija
jezika frakture, lirička kontuzija.
Obilna krvarenja, potrebna transfuzija
iznenadni napad sve izgleda k'o iluzija.
Na repere i ljude to je sad parodija
razbijena je potera svih tih Harija.
Nisu znali moje drugo ime je pizdarija
i nisam ta njihova, već garda starija.
Spreman za sve prozivke i sva pljuvanja
vaša pljuvačka mi dođe nešto k'o emulzija.
To je ono voda-ulje, pomešana fuzija
zaštita od mene da se ne desi korozija.
Jašem naouružan, teška artiljerija
oko mene indijanci, svi su okićeni perima.
Od poglavice pa do dece, sve sama fenserija
čak i ova zemlja mi izgleda kao prerija.
Stojim sam na gomili vrućih čaura
u polju punom leševa, sve šabanija.
Zajebana slika, ne mož' biti zajebanija
uhvaćeni na prepad, u sred spavanja.
Ne ostavljam svedoke, moja taktika
kamufliran, nevidljiv od glave do patika.
Da ostanem nezapažen, to mi je strategija
alibi, logistika, nisam glup k'o Legija.
Osmatračka baza, brdo-periferija
i svetlo na vrhu kada sprema se diverzija.
Podmazujem mikrofone, fetiš i perverzija
služio sam stari kadar, artiljerija!
Teška artiljerija, verbalna municija
Ako vi vladate scenom onda ja sam opozicija
Jebeš kriminalce koji postanu policija
I jebeš emsije što se čmare klincima
Teška artiljerija, verbalna municija
Ako vi vladate scenom onda ja sam opozicija
Jebeš kriminalce koji postanu policija
I jebeš repere s napuderisanim licima!
Dvorska Luda
Sinovatz
2009

Heavy Artillery

Sinovatz fires, heavy artillery,
I smell of oil like raw machinery, girl.
In retaliation, against MC aftershaves,
stale sourdough, my aroma therapy.
Acid in my stomach, see - perfumery,
fast food, plastic, cheap jewelry.
Instead of a tavern, a pizzeria is in style,
from all that inspiration, I'd check into Sterija.
Words of lead are now heard from the stereo,
microphone, irony, iron, microphone feedback.
I hold on even though everything's like a Spanish soap opera,
countless episodes, quasi-art, a gallery.
Rappers got drunk on liqueur and sherry,
and gathered in a pile like the mafia,
but here we waited for them, just my dog and I,
and 6 per mille in our blood - homemade brandy.
We're both on the chase, there will be carnage.
I'm fed up to the neck with your fake swagger.
Ghetto crime stories because of a few slaps,
because of robbing a kiosk, some heavy regrets.
And I ran home fast like a fury,
because that inspiration hit me on the street.
I got the information firsthand,
rap is sold for money, just like the cops!
And that's why I rush to the microphone quickly,
to riddle 100 beats with hot bullets.
Camouflage, sharp teeth, the mission awaits,
from the side streets, a real ghetto track!
Heavy artillery, verbal ammunition,
If you rule the scene, then I'm the opposition.
Fuck criminals who become police,
And fuck MCs who prey on kids.
Heavy artillery, verbal ammunition,
If you rule the scene, then I'm the opposition.
Fuck criminals who become police,
And fuck rappers with powdered faces!
Words in bursts, confusion arose,
tongue fractures, lyrical contusion.
Profuse bleeding, transfusion needed,
a sudden attack, everything looks like an illusion.
On rappers and people, it's now a parody,
the chase of all those Harrys is broken.
They didn't know my middle name is bullshit,
and I'm not theirs, but the old guard.
Ready for all the callouts and all the spitting,
your saliva is something like an emulsion to me.
It's that water-oil, mixed fusion,
protection from me so that corrosion doesn't occur.
I ride armed, heavy artillery,
Indians around me, all adorned with feathers.
From the chief to the children, all posers,
even this land looks like a prairie to me.
I stand alone on a pile of hot shells,
in a field full of corpses, all shambles.
A fucked up picture, it can't be more fucked up,
caught off guard, in the middle of sleep.
I leave no witnesses, my tactic,
camouflaged, invisible from head to sneakers.
To remain unnoticed, that's my strategy,
alibi, logistics, I'm not stupid like Legija.
Observation base, hill-periphery,
and the light at the top when a diversion is being prepared.
I lubricate microphones, fetish and perversion,
I served the old cadre, artillery!
Heavy artillery, verbal ammunition,
If you rule the scene, then I'm the opposition.
Fuck criminals who become police,
And fuck MCs who prey on kids.
Heavy artillery, verbal ammunition,
If you rule the scene, then I'm the opposition.
Fuck criminals who become police,
And fuck rappers with powdered faces!
Court Jester
Sinovatz
2009