Paroles et traduction FL - Trance

Trance

Ven dispárame, men compárate, ten mi karate, ten mi jarabe
Ve mi cara friend, ¿tú para qué joyas caras?, ven disparáme
Ven dispárame, men compárate, ten mi karate, ten mi jarabe
Ve mi cara friend, ¿tú para qué joyas caras?, ven disparáme

Hablan de droga y fácil los derribo, me tiran pullas todas las esquivo
Les gusta el jarabe, la juana y blanca yo la droga la produzco cuando escribo
Su fama se basa en vicios, no pasan de niños necios
Creyendo que vivir bien es hacer de la mujer un negocio
Fácil los detengo, stop, yo no necesito druggs
Para encajar en tu top, ni code, ni armas, ni coke
Todos hablan de los mismo, lo mismo con otro beat
La misma mierda, copias de copias, que bazofia, shit

Ya todos quieren money, todos se sienten crazy's
Pero como sus homies, de la manera fácil
Yo soy un kamikasi, en calle o en tarima
El jet lee de la rima, una bomba iroshima

Que me tiren todo lo que quieran ninguno me asara
Tiro de frente, voy sin esconderme les pongo la cara
Degradan a la mujer y la mujer no es un objeto
Acaso dime que se siente que a tu madre le falten el respeto

Ven dispárame, men compárate, ten mi karate, ten mi jarabe
Ve mi cara friend, ¿tú para qué joyas caras?, ven disparáme
Ven dispárame, men compárate, ten mi karate, ten mi jarabe
Ve mi cara friend, ¿tú para qué joyas caras?, ven disparáme

Trance

Fire at me, man, compare yourself, take my karate, take my syrup
Look at my face, friend, precious jewels for you? Fire at me
Fire at me, man, compare yourself, take my karate, take my syrup
Look at my face, friend, precious jewels for you? Fire at me

They talk about drugs and I easily knock them down, they throw insults at me but I dodge them all
They like syrup, weed, and white, I produce the dope when I write
Their fame is based on vices, they are nothing but foolish little kids
Believing that to live well is to make a business of women
I stop them easily, stop, I don't need drugs
To fit into your top, no drugs, no guns, no coke
Everyone talks about the same thing, the same thing with a different beat
The same shit, copies of copies, what garbage, shit

Now they all want money, they all feel crazy
But like your homies, in an easy way
I am a kamikaze, on the street or on stage
The Jet Lee of rhyme, a Hiroshima bomb

Let them throw at me whatever they want, none of it scares me
I shoot straight, I go without hiding, I show them my face
They degrade women, and women are not objects
Now honey, tell me how it feels to have your mother disrespected

Fire at me, man, compare yourself, take my karate, take my syrup
Look at my face, friend, precious jewels for you? Fire at me
Fire at me, man, compare yourself, take my karate, take my syrup
Look at my face, friend, precious jewels for you? Fire at me