Paroles et traduction Dogma Crew feat. Kase.O - Chúpala

Chúpala

Y si esta mierda no te gusta, chupala.
Si por nosotros tu no apuestas, chupala.
Si tu gentuza va de lista, chupala.
Doble V, Dogma Crew, en tu yugular Asi que chupala.
Puedo cabalgar sobre esdrujulas,
Sin horizonte alguno pero con brujula, con un manto de estrellas por cupula, la oscuridad me motiva como a For Copola.
Eyacula no fabula esta aqui en tu yugular, para estar sin escrupulos no existen obstaculos, Dogma Crew sube en apojeos y se folla tu espectaculo.
Minusculo, solo el horaculo con sus tentaculos tiene control maximo y maneja desde su habitaculo.
Adictos a crear escandalos, Pablo montanos, en tu coche y esta noche ganaremos el titulo de bandalos.
Damballa nos guia mediante estimulos, tu cara guarra cambiala porque ya nos persiguen miles de discipulos, ponlo en tu articulo rap por fasciculo, ridiculo, de Sevilla a Zaragoza muchas millas pero existen vinculos.
Son sonidos como de circo que te follan en circulo,
Disfrutalo, legendario coge ya el microfono y escupelo.
Si se acomodan en el fondo y sienten vertigo al primer compas, las chicas son muy guapas y no se lo hacen mal.
Estoy cargado como el Magnum Fos, maldita habilidad, maldita sensibilidad y maldito ardor en el estomago.
Antiestetico peaton, se juntan cinco y te la forman, Kase.
O con Dogma, si la base asesina va que zumba.
Dogmassacre, dioses en las sombras se acostumbran, pero no tu novio, siente el agobio de la oscuridad, no existe el totem, dame un papel y te devuelvo un arma,
Y como el Tote hago papiroflexia con tu calma.
Entonces puedes calmarte o dejarte llevar al panico, agarrarte a un clavo, a un nabo, nadar en sabo.
Solo es pa′ que se sepa, os empape de aqui a Nepal de crema, abecedario me guarda rencor, abusado es mi lema.
Hijos de puta del planeta tierra en general, welcome to the massacre verbal, epidemia.
Y si esta mierda no te gusta, chupala.
Si por nosotros tu no apuestas, chupala.
Si tu gentuza va de lista, chupala.
Doble V, Dogma Crew, en tu yugular Pasen y vean al forzudo, semi desnudo, yo pillo el micro como un arma, tu busca un escudo.
Soy trapecista del verso en la cuerda floja, sin red y sin arnes me ves, y hasta a la pata coja, enfoca al mas grande rapper de tu epoca.
Te toca y te disloca, lo mismo da tu ropa, mi rap es psicologico y espiritual, muchos acudis a mi ritual, de forma habitual, y es normal que mi contorsionismo verbal haga tu rap comercial, desaparecer como judini, vuelve.
Vuelve el carismatico grupo Dogma, y vuelve Kase.
O pa' definir (p′a definir), porque llamais Hip-Hop a cualquier saltinbanqui, aspirante a yanki,
Al ritmo raro que blasfema contra el funky.
Puedes engañar a colegialas pero a nuestros fans
No les vayas con tus letras malas, seras el hombre bala en nuestra carpa, mi rap es a la carta.
A mi tus musas me tocan el arpa, habra que diferenciar tu truño, de la buena mierda que a este grupo de colegas unio.
Estas aqui por enchufe, co en tu fe me lefe, Javier escupe en tu tupe, ya ocupe tu subuffer.
Para no odiaros parodiamos, pero al Hip-Hop le duele el corazon cuando sonais por la radio,
Hoy estamos contemplando vuestro circo estos cinco,
Y muchos mas chavales que de lunes a domingo se lo curran.
Si no podeis respetar esto, os bajaremos de la burra del dinero y su peso, Emilio Aragon y toda su familia son unos payasos (yeah), va, con esto termino, Doble V esta en camino, Dogma Crew es lo que vino, no hay ninguna puta duda, chupala.
Tu madre es la mujer barbuda...
No me hace falta arrodillarme, estas en peligro por señalarme.
Debi recordarte mi habilidad, tememos en destrozarte, soy incapaz de soportar tu fe y lamentable espectaculo, tu rap de jardin vergonzoso, aqui nace algo practico.
Que reluzca mi virtud si necesito una tentacion, de galan yo tengo poco, soy un borde, toma mi direccion.
Te sorprende toda la metrica, estructura de esta cancion, masturbo a un viejo tetraplegico, veras, tu futuro sera mejor.
Y esto no es un tango, tampoco es un zumo de mango, tampoco es la biblia, pero es un sueño donde aparezco en Siria.
Es el Block Massacre desde el fango, explosion en Libia,
Fusion valle del Ebro y del Guadalquivir donde nos designan.
Tengo ganas de empezar a machacar en esta guerra otra vez, todo lo que intenteis sera fallido, me escurro como un pez, para competir con nosotros no hace falta pedir la vez, autolesion hijos de puta es un disparo entre sien y sien.
Maricon, pegate un tiro y folla con tu propio hermano.
Ojala se muera tu hijo, espera, o rapea hasta con el nabo.
Me desesperas lo veo claro, odio la primavera, ¿sabes?
Tu rap es de tercera y yo en tu puta cara lo clavo, morena quieras candela, el Hijo Prodigo ahora suena.
Y mas que un profeta save y desvela, que tengo veneno en las venas, yo soy un problema y lo ultimo que nos queda es que monjas se coman el coño envueltas en trajes de seda.
Dogma te presiona, tu pariente se pincha hormonas, idiota se abre la veda, y el Zonah quiere follarte nena.
Ojala pudiera verte, tocarte, poder amarte, y en el culo una bomba meterte, mi estilo es un ser inerte.
Necesito castrarte, tu tumor a mi me divierte, tu familia arde con arte, nadie podra a ti encontrarte.
Odio tener que olerte, celebrare el dia de tu muerte, lo mio es un caso aparte, solo deseo joderte.
Y si esta mierda no te gusta, chupala.
Si por nosotros tu no apuestas, chupala.
Si tu gentuza va de lista, chupala.
Doble V, Dogma Crew, en tu yugular

Suck it

And if you don't like this shit, suck it.
If you don't bet on us, suck it.
If your people are acting smart, suck it.
Double V, Dogma Crew, in your jugular So suck it.
I can ride on esdrujulas,
Without any horizon but with a compass, with a mantle of stars as a dome, darkness motivates me like For Coppola.
Ejaculates no fable is here in your jugular, to be without scruples there are no obstacles, Dogma Crew rises in climaxes and fucks your show.
Minuscule, only the oracle with its tentacles has maximum control and manages from its cubicle.
Addicted to creating scandals, Pablo Montanos, in your car and tonight we will win the title of bandits.
Damballa guides us through stimuli, change your dirty face because thousands of disciples are already chasing us, put it in your article rap by fascicle, ridiculous, from Seville to Zaragoza many miles but there are links.
They are sounds like a circus that fuck you in a circle,
Enjoy it, legendary take the microphone and spit it out.
If they settle in the background and feel dizzy at the first beat, the girls are very pretty and they don't do it badly.
I'm loaded like the Magnum Fos, damn skill, damn sensitivity and damn burning in my stomach.
Unaesthetic pedestrian, five get together and they form it, Kase.
Or with Dogma, if the killer base goes that buzzes.
Dogmassacre, gods in the shadows get used to it, but not your boyfriend, feel the burden of darkness, there is no totem, give me a paper and I'll give you back a weapon,
And like the Tote I do origami with your calm.
Then you can calm down or let yourself go into a panic, grab a nail, a turnip, swim in sabo.
It's just so that it's known, I soak you from here to Nepal with cream, the alphabet holds a grudge against me, abused is my motto.
Motherfuckers of planet earth in general, welcome to the verbal massacre, epidemic.
And if you don't like this shit, suck it.
If you don't bet on us, suck it.
If your people are acting smart, suck it.
Double V, Dogma Crew, in your jugular Come and see the strongman, half naked, I catch the microphone like a weapon, you look for a shield.
I'm a verse trapeze artist on the tightrope, without a net and without a harness you see me, and even with a lame leg, focus on the greatest rapper of your era.
It touches you and dislocates you, it doesn't matter your clothes, my rap is psychological and spiritual, many of you come to my ritual, in a habitual way, and it's normal that my verbal contortionism makes your commercial rap, disappear like Houdini, come back.
The charismatic group Dogma is back, and Kase is back.
Or to define (to define), because you call Hip-Hop any acrobat, aspiring Yankee,
To the strange rhythm that blasphemes against the funky.
You can fool schoolgirls but our fans
Don't go with your bad lyrics, you'll be the bullet man in our tent, my rap is a la carte.
To me your muses play the harp, we will have to differentiate your turd, from the good shit that this group of colleagues unites.
You're here by enchufe, co in your faith me lefe, Javier spits in your toupee, I already occupy your subwoofer.
To not hate you we parody, but Hip-Hop hurts the heart when you sound on the radio,
Today we are contemplating your circus these five,
And many more kids who work it from Monday to Sunday.
If you can't respect this, we'll get you off the donkey of money and its weight, Emilio Aragon and his whole family are clowns (yeah), come on, with this I finish, Double V is on the way, Dogma Crew is what came, there's no fucking doubt, suck it.
Your mother is the bearded woman...
I don't need to kneel, you are in danger for pointing at me.
I had to remind you of my ability, we fear destroying you, I am unable to bear your faith and pitiful spectacle, your shameful garden rap, here something practical is born.
May my virtue shine if I need a temptation, I have little of a gallant, I am an edge, take my address.
You are surprised by all the metrics, the structure of this song, I masturbate an old quadriplegic, you will see, your future will be better.
And this is not a tango, nor is it a mango juice, nor is it the bible, but it is a dream where I appear in Syria.
It's the Block Massacre from the mud, explosion in Libya,
Fusion valley of the Ebro and the Guadalquivir where they designate us.
I want to start crushing again in this war, everything you try will fail, I slip like a fish, to compete with us you don't have to ask for the time, self-harm motherfuckers is a shot between temple and temple.
Faggot, shoot yourself and fuck your own brother.
I hope your son dies, wait, or rap even with the turnip.
You make me desperate I see it clearly, I hate spring, you know?
Your rap is third-rate and I nail it in your fucking face, brunette you want candela, the Prodigal Son now sounds.
And more than a prophet knows and reveals, that I have poison in my veins, I am a problem and the last thing we have left is for nuns to eat their pussies wrapped in silk dresses.
Dogma pressures you, your relative injects hormones, idiot opens the ban, and the Zonah wants to fuck you baby.
I wish I could see you, touch you, love you, and put a bomb in your ass, my style is an inert being.
I need to castrate you, your tumor amuses me, your family burns with art, no one will be able to find you.
I hate having to smell you, I will celebrate the day of your death, my case is a separate case, I only want to fuck you.
And if you don't like this shit, suck it.
If you don't bet on us, suck it.
If your people are acting smart, suck it.
Double V, Dogma Crew, in your jugular