Paroles et traduction Homer el Mero Mero - Desastres

Desastres

Esto no es musica es droga
Tiros en la puerta de adelante, entra la policía
Buscando armas, dinero y mercadería
Allanamientos por el barrio es cosa de todos los días
Aunque la torta gigante está demasiada escondida
Ya no se confían, siempre cuidan la comida
De wachos salen a robar pa′ ganarse la vida
La misma calle desderama salen cada herida
Tratan de ganar la feria, la miseria no lo olvidan
Damasiado real
Sigo su propio sistema
Con un robo en la mañana y otro antes de la cena
Siempre a cara descubierta visten como gente buena
Hacen que ser bandolero al menos valga la pena
Y vale la pena
Ojos rojos y panza llena
Todo el día maquineando porque para esto se entrena
Lo de ser un delincuente negro se lleva en las venas
Cumplir siempre las promesas, pero nunca las condenas
Vivir siempre afuera, vida free con los colegas
Haciendo desastres solo pa' mostrar como se juega
Ni con zona liberada, ni pagando alguna entrega
Ellos arman la jugada y se mueven como estrategas
Y vuelven a la pega, ya se les hizo costumbre
Pleno enero y estan gastando la que hicieron en octubre
Tienen claro el panorama, pocas veces se confunden
Ya compraron varios botes por si el barco se les hunde
No estan de paso, siguen en carrera
Van a terminar triunfando de alguna manera
Subiendo sin parar y sin usar las escaleras
Sobreviviendo por el poder de su billetera
Chequealo fella, ¿Te cuento que pasa en el rioba?
Que ahi afuera se les roba y los matan si se retoba
Porque la lleca no es joda y ser pobre les incomoda
Sienten hambre a toda hora y ganas de tomar más droga
Puta, pero en el fondo son todas buenas personas
Te lo juro

Disasters

This is not music, it's drugs
Shots at the front door, police enter
Looking for weapons, money and merchandise
Neighborhood raids are everyday business
Although the giant cake is hidden too well
They don't trust anymore, they always guard the food
As kids they go out to steal to earn their living
Every wound comes from the same street
They try to win the fair, they won't forget the misery
So true
I follow my own system
With a robbery in the morning and another before dinner
Always with their faces uncovered, they dress like good people
They make being a bandit worthwhile
Yes, it's worth it
Red eyes and a full belly
Plotting all day long because that's what they're trained for
Being a black criminal runs through their veins
Always fulfilling promises, but never serving sentences
Always living on the outside, a free life with friends
Causing disasters just to show how it's done
Not even with a free zone, not even with a bribe
They make the move and move like strategists
And they go back to work, it's become a habit
Mid-January and they're spending what they made in October
They see the big picture, they rarely get confused
They've already bought several boats in case their ship sinks
They're not just passing through, they're still in the race
They will end up triumphing somehow
Going up non-stop without using the stairs
Surviving by the power of their wallets
Check it out, darling, can I tell you what's going on in the rioba?
That out there they rob and kill you if you talk back
Because violence is not a joke and being poor is uncomfortable
They're hungry all the time and want to do more drugs
Damn, but deep down they're all good people
I swear to you