Paroles et traduction Jamaika feat. Branco - Picasso

Picasso

Mike Lowrey

Velkommen til gadeplan - selv Picasso ka' ikk' male portrættet
Folk er sultne, det' walal', der lægger stakken
Og min dudu laver lacaag - jeg' på farten
(Jah-a-ah)
Velkommen til gadeplan - selv Picasso ka' ikk' male portrættet
Folk er sultne, det' walal', der lægger stakken
Og mine skejser laver skejser - jeg' på farten
(Jah-a-ah, jah-a-ah)

Ja, orh, stabler sedler med min CEO
Retssager op til halsen, brormand,
Sagde til dem, "her' en fucking million"
De si'r, Brancz du' et stilikon,
Der' så meget jeg ikk' ka' sig' til nogen
Så jeg be'r til Gud, håber på, jeg aldrig nogensinde bli'r dit idol
Velkommen til en gyser, hvis du så, er du et mordervidn'
Ka' ikk' spil os ud, vi har spillet alt for længe herude på Nordsiden
Navigerer igennem byen, bror, har den på mig - det' altid
Navigerer igennem byen, bror, har den på mig - det' altid
De' på væggen som insekter, kontakter, kontekter
Fjorten år tager det bagfra, fjorten år gjorde ham gangster
Fjorten år gjorde ham gangster - lille og varm, fucking satan
Tænker kun på at lave k— (Grrr pow-pow!)

Velkommen til gadeplan - selv Picasso ka' ikk' male portrættet
Folk er sultne, det' walal', der lægger stakken
Og min dudu laver lacaag - jeg' på farten
(Jah-a-ah)
Velkommen til gadeplan - selv Picasso ka' ikk' male portrættet
Folk er sultne, det' walal', der lægger stakken
Og mine skejser laver skejser - jeg' på farten
(Jah-a-ah, jah-a-ah)

Hører, de snakker - der' så meget, de ved
Men hva' ved de om at ryk' en fucking
Stang og investere den i en lejlighed?
Hva' ved de om,
Min datter aldrig mangler noget, aldrig mangler noget nogensinde?
Ved de om, en bror han fik tolv år? Jeg vil ønske, det var tolv pinde
12 år gjorde ham til en anden, blokken synker ligesom kviksand
Det' for sent, når den rammer dit baghoved og den exit gennem panden
Selv familien de siger, "du snakker til en død mand"
Orh-oh, orh-oh, den exit gennem panden

Velkommen til gadeplan - selv Picasso ka' ikk' male portrættet
Folk er sultne, det' walal', der lægger stakken
Og min dudu laver lacaag - jeg' på farten
(Jah-a-ah)
Velkommen til gadeplan - selv Picasso ka' ikk' male portrættet
Folk er sultne, det' walal', der lægger stakken
Og mine skejser laver skejser - jeg' på farten
(Jah-a-ah, jah-a-ah)

Picasso

Mike Lowrey

Welcome to the street level - even Picasso can't paint the portrait
People are hungry, it's real, they're stacking the paper
And my girl's making money - I'm on the move
(Jah-a-ah)
Welcome to the street level - even Picasso can't paint the portrait
People are hungry, it's real, they're stacking the paper
And my boys are making moves - I'm on the move
(Jah-a-ah, jah-a-ah)

Yeah, uh, stacking bills with my CEO
Lawsuits up to my neck, bro,
Told them, "Here's a fucking million"
They say, Brancz you're a style icon,
There's so much I can't tell anyone
So I pray to God, hoping I'll never be your idol
Welcome to a horror movie, if you saw, you're a witness to murder
Can't play us out, we've been playing too long out here on the Northside
Navigating through the city, bro, I got it - it's always on me
Navigating through the city, bro, I got it - it's always on me
They're on the wall like insects, contacts, connections
Fourteen years took it from behind, fourteen years made him a gangster
Fourteen years made him a gangster - small and hot, damn it
Only thinking about making k— (Grrr pow-pow!)

Welcome to the street level - even Picasso can't paint the portrait
People are hungry, it's real, they're stacking the paper
And my girl's making money - I'm on the move
(Jah-a-ah)
Welcome to the street level - even Picasso can't paint the portrait
People are hungry, it's real, they're stacking the paper
And my boys are making moves - I'm on the move
(Jah-a-ah, jah-a-ah)

I hear them talking - they know so much
But what do they know about moving a fucking
Kilo and investing it in an apartment?
What do they know about,
My daughter never lacking anything, never lacking anything ever?
Do they know about a brother who got twelve years? I wish it was twelve grand
12 years made him a different man, the block sinks like quicksand
It's too late when it hits the back of your head and exits through your forehead
Even the family says, "You're talking to a dead man"
Orh-oh, orh-oh, the exit through the forehead

Welcome to the street level - even Picasso can't paint the portrait
People are hungry, it's real, they're stacking the paper
And my girl's making money - I'm on the move
(Jah-a-ah)
Welcome to the street level - even Picasso can't paint the portrait
People are hungry, it's real, they're stacking the paper
And my boys are making moves - I'm on the move
(Jah-a-ah, jah-a-ah)