Grips - Baze traduction en anglais

Grips

Da nütze ke gschidi büecher si hei ke
Grips grips grips grips
Gang füeuse di biudigslücke ohni mi
Mi mi mi
Mache uf häull u clever i gseh
Nix nix wit u breit nix
Gross wöue gäud ga scheffle, wie ohni grips
Grips grips grips psschchchchch

Si chöme meischtens ir gruppe
Ei dj paar deppe mit ruckseck
Chäppli schreg, hose am arsch
ärnscht wi hert, pose sou wow
Marschiere i club, träie grad eine
Markiere dr cool bim miks abgschegge
One, twoscho gli chunnt ihri erschti platte
Für d homies, bitches, kidz ufde strasse, fett
Ihri jungs mache paar featurs
D schwe vom eim wono hook darf singe
När geiht post, si in aller munde
Erscht gig ufem dorfplatz, vor es paar dutzend
Plötzlech dissesi d klass
Verdecke no schnäu ihri shirts miter chatz
Wie erwachse si, heisech emanzipiert,
Schreie luutume, doch kei arsch intressierts

Eue rap isch nix nix
Euch fäuts a grips grips grips
Dür eui rächnig gits strich strich strich
Wär zieht d leine im rapgame, b a z ey
Grips grips grips grips grips
Euch fäuts a grips grips grips
Gibnech gärn ä tipp mit
Chöit schreie wi lärme s gitt nix nix

När schlüpfe si us aune löcher
Wird ändlech würklech, wovome jahre tröimt hett
Rede vo erfouug u fame, wäg paar verchoufte tapes
Im kollegekreis
Z label wott zahle e clip wird's bringe
Mau öppis neus, sone beat mit pitchte stimme
Scheiss fürd fans dräiht mit handycam
So wid klass irgendwo ir umgäbig vo bärn
När ab uf züri iz vivastudio
Wi so zgfüeusig blitzartig usezcho
Was si dgnau meine i gwüsse ziile
öb aus wosi verzeue de o würklech passiert sig
Lueg zue wi schnäus nä i gring stigt
Doch übermuet verdrängtne s hirni
Immer meh gigs, immer meh chicks
U scho lösesich uf wäg internem strit
Egau eue rap isch sowiso nix nix
Euch fäuts a grips grips grips
Dür eui rächnig gits strich strich strich
Wär hett leine am rapgame, b a z ey
Grips grips grips grips grips
Euch fäuts a grips grips grips
Gibnech gärn ä tipp mit
Chöit schreie wi lärme s gitt nix nix

Grips (Brains)

They don't use proper books, they lack
Brains, brains, brains, brains
Go fill the picture gaps without me
Me, me, me
Acting all loud and clever, I see
Nothing, nothing far and wide, nothing
Wanting big money, shoveling it like they have no brains
Brains, brains, brains, psschchchchch

They mostly come in groups
One DJ, a couple of fools with backpacks
Hats askew, pants at their asses
Serious as hell, posing like wow
Marching into the club, straight drinking one
Marking the cool kid with messed up mixes
One, two, watch out, their first record is coming
For the homies, bitches, kids on the streets, fat
Their boys do a few features
The girlfriend of one is allowed to sing the hook
Suddenly it's all over the place, they're on everyone's lips
First gig in the village square, in front of a few dozen
Suddenly they're the class
Quickly covering their shirts with a cat
How grown-up they are, they call themselves emancipated,
Screaming loudly, but nobody gives a damn

Your rap is nothing, nothing
You lack brains, brains, brains
Through your account there are lines, lines, lines
Who pulls the strings in the rap game, b a z e y
Brains, brains, brains, brains, brains
You lack brains, brains, brains
I'd gladly give you a tip
You can scream like hell, it's nothing, nothing

Suddenly they crawl out of their holes
Finally becomes real, what they've been dreaming of for years
Talking about success and fame, because of a few sold tapes
In their circle of friends
The label wants to pay, a video will bring it
Come up with something new, some beat with pitched voices
Shit for the fans, filmed with a handycam
So it becomes class somewhere near Bern
Now off to Zurich to the Vivastudio
Like lightning, it comes out so emotionally
What they exactly mean in certain lines
Whether what they tell is really what happened
Watch how quickly it rises to your head
But arrogance displaces the brain
More and more gigs, more and more chicks
And it dissolves because of internal strife
Anyway, your rap is so nothing, nothing
You lack brains, brains, brains
Through your account there are lines, lines, lines
Who has the reins in the rap game, b a z e y
Brains, brains, brains, brains, brains
You lack brains, brains, brains
I'd gladly give you a tip
You can scream like hell, it's nothing, nothing