Paroles et traduction Akaise - Delicatessen

Delicatessen

Con los ojos vendados al igual que el corazon
Robo tu atencion, manejando este bason que me mandaron, joven en paro
Arrancó sin combustible, nunca pasó por el aro

Ojos bañados en cloro, eso esta muy claro
Se que me los follo sin gastar ni un disparo
Pispalo, mis malos dias son mis buenos temas
Ya es casi rutina lo de la tos y las flemas

Semanas de curro, dinero, problemas
Ciclos y etapas de las que te quemas
Que mas me da eh, que mas me da
Reciclando el contenido que escribí hace ya

Yo! Pierdo la cartera y los nervios,
Ahora los raperos quieren ser Dios
Todos son muy kies con esa pinta de serbios
Con esta trayectoria pueden comerme los hue-vos

Escribo en el metro sentao
O a las tres de la mañana con el Sach stayao
Esto es algo que me sale no creo que lo iguales
Hay fakes como tu seis veces mas reales

Tu no vas a valer porque escribas pa valer
Yo valgo pa escribir, por eso me pongo a barrer
Voy reptando por el ritmo conectando con tu oido
Colocante mi rap como el spam en un banner

Va nerviosito y se traba
Acaba de empezar debe ser la primera vez que graba
Me quiere convencer de su historia y okey
Yo, ya pase por ahi, lo que hay no me gustó

Me gusta hacer mis temas y escucharlos
Lo de llegar lejos ya se me ha quedado lejos
Ya lo sabe Carlos, -somos- currantes esclavos
-Estamos- Atando cabos sueltos para buscarse los euros

El tiempo que no tengo es el que esta sonando ahora
Entra clase y curro grabo mi banda sonira
Te miran por encima pero estan muy abajo
Si hablamos de nivel y soltura en un trabajo

Muy, muy flojo el nivel de su ambicion
Comparado con las horas que le dedico a este asunto
Pienso en los momentos y los junto,
Que dicen los tuyos? Tio, yo solo pregunto

Delicatessen

With your eyes blindfolded just like the heart
I steal your attention, driving this bass that was sent to me, young man unemployed
It started without fuel, never went through the rim

Eyes bathed in chlorine, that's very clear
I know I fuck them without firing a shot
Check it out, my bad days are my good songs
It's almost routine by now the cough and the phlegm

Weeks of work, money, problems
Cycles and stages that burn you up
What do I care, eh, what do I care
Recycling the content that I wrote some time ago

Yo! I lose my wallet and my nerves
Now the rappers want to be God
They're all very kinky with that Serbian look
With this trajectory they can eat my balls

I write on the subway sitting down
Or at three in the morning with Sach stayao
This is something that comes out of me, I don't think you can match it
There are fakes like you six times more real

You're not going to be worth it because you write to be worth it
I'm worth writing for, that's why I'm sweeping
I'm crawling through the rhythm connecting with your ear
My rap is as addictive as spam on a banner

He's nervous and he's stumbling
He's just starting out, it must be the first time he's recorded
He wants to convince me of his story and okay
Yo, I've been there, I didn't like what was there

I like making my songs and listening to them
Getting far has already become distant to me
Carlos already knows it, -we- are- worker slaves
-We- are- tying loose ends to find euros

The time I don't have is the one that is sounding now
Class and work enter, I record my soundband
They look down on you but they are very low
If we talk about level and ease in a job

Very, very weak the level of their ambition
Compared to the hours I dedicate to this business
I think about the moments and I put them together,
What do your people say? Man, I'm just asking