Paroles et traduction Liricistas - Paga tus Pecados

Paga tus Pecados

Liricistas en la casa 2010
Carlos vise en el beat desde el texas
Na ma.
Familia fatal, que es casi de fantasía
Que la chela va con fanta?, no, sin baso y bien fría
For live for real for love for my break
Mi grupo en acción y tu de que me contai
Que queri?, un berlin mira bajo los muros
Que usted tiene bling-bling, yo tengo estilo lo juro,
Ojos rojos como el piure, aveces mentiras tiré
Bienvenida a la locura, ahora que ya me cure
Marcas de tortura, en la cara son ojeras,
Escribo por nesecidad aunque aveses no quiera,
No puedo parar, vamos callendo socio
Liricistas en la casa represent hip hop explocion,
Egron es la poción pa' perder la noción
La billetera, el celular y la cabeza weon
En un rincón del salón, me flagelo con los flacos,
Oye flaca te estai perdiendo con ese tipo ase rato,
Y pa' que po', obvio, en la tierra mis pecados pago,
Cada sábado es un castigo, ya no se lo que hago
Solo dice "Go", sin pensar en consecuencias,
Al borde del abismo siempre ah sido la esencia,
Violentando mi cerebro, neurona, recuerdos corren,
Escribo con lápiz mina mis promesas pa' que se borren,
Que pasa reina, solamente recojo flores,
Las muelo, las echo en un papel, siente el olor
Pecador, en tus manos tienes lo malo,
Dolor, no lo hay, vienen, camina calmado
Claros que la inmortalidad, esta detrás del sol
Esperamos que se guarde para continuarlo
La fucking misión
La Misión liricistas en la casa
Wacho no, no, yo, yo
Chitopan, el dropen, el hapen armeflex
Sí, yo
Si yo vivo con resaca, mi aca, es el alcohol que me mata
Mi hígado trata de cambiar el agua,
Mi cama no me aguanta, tampoco me aguanto yo,
Vivo de noche y muero de día
Odiamos el sol, con este ron, inyectao' a la sangre,
Llega tarde, mi estomago arde, ruega por un trasplante
A que tanto darle, a esa botella que expande
Mi placer gigante, sé que no parece interesante,
Llevarte esta cantina, donde mi crew descansa,
Semanas enteras, no llegando nunca a casa,
Y el pecado, oye pescado, para vender la pesca,
Amo el caño, bajo la pluma nocturna fresca
Y así vamo', sin perdón y olvidando la culpa,
Puma, desquiciado, fuma el arte de pecar la pluma
Suma, las bestias y las dejan dando bote,
Alcohol, dros mil dos, me comprendes el mote,
Me comprendes el mote, liricistas in the pilning
Hey you, motherfuckers "madafaka" black ...
In the texas estudio, es liricistas mi wacho
Panchito start, yo, sueltela
Fumo hielito problema
Ou shitvamo' girando, al compas de humo respirando,
Contando huéas de la vida, mirando el paisaje de mi cuarto,
Una panoramica, loca reparto cuando la poca motivacion
Y una insolacion toma el mando,
Mi bando, bandido, doy mi sangre
Ni uno vendió, menos serio del ansunto entendió,
Otros se desesperan, por la paragua perra,
Que salvan con luca, con la abuela, afuera de la feria,
Y van por coca, prueba a esta fiera
Le comen la mente entera, y no comentan na'
Y toa' pesca, esto es a la ligera, pasa la tijera
Que no hay moledor, jugando con la leña,
A falta de encendedor
Oiga señor, no mire así, yo no me paso del reglón,
No existe dialogo, una mira dura
Y punto maricón, puño con puño, tu gritai yo grito
Papel de vuelo el pate y pasame ese grafito.

Pay for Your Sins

Liricistas in the house 2010
Carlos vise on the beat from Texas
Na ma.
Fatal family, almost like fantasy
Beer with Fanta? No, straight and ice cold
For live for real for love for my break
My crew in action, what you tellin' me?
What you want?, a Berlin look under the walls
You got bling-bling, I got style I swear,
Red eyes like the piure, sometimes I threw lies
Welcome to the madness, now that I'm cured
Torture marks, dark circles on my face,
I write out of need even when I don't want to,
I can't stop, we're falling partner
Liricistas in the house represent hip hop explosion,
Egron is the potion to lose your mind
The wallet, the cell phone and your head dude
In a corner of the room, I flagellate myself with the skinny ones,
Hey girl, you're wasting your time with that guy for a while,
And for what?, obvious, on earth I pay for my sins,
Every Saturday is a punishment, I don't know what I'm doing anymore
Just say "Go", without thinking about consequences,
On the edge of the abyss has always been the essence,
Violating my brain, neurons, memories run,
I write with pencil lead my promises so they can be erased,
What's up queen, I just pick flowers,
I grind them, I throw them on a paper, feel the smell
Sinner, in your hands you have the bad,
Pain, there is none, it comes, walk calmly
It's clear that immortality is behind the sun
We hope it will be saved to continue it
The fucking mission
The Mission liricistas in the house
Wacho no, no, yo, yo
Chitopan, the dropen, the hapen armeflex
Yes, me
If I live with a hangover, my downfall is the alcohol that kills me
My liver tries to change the water,
My bed can't stand me, neither can I,
I live at night and die by day
We hate the sun, with this rum, injected into the blood,
It's late, my stomach burns, begs for a transplant
Why give so much, to that bottle that expands
My giant pleasure, I know it doesn't seem interesting,
Take you to this cantina, where my crew rests,
Whole weeks, never coming home,
And the sin, hey fish, to sell the catch,
I love the pipe, under the cool night pen
And so we go, without forgiveness and forgetting the guilt,
Puma, deranged, smokes the art of sinning the pen
Add up, the beasts and leave them bouncing,
Alcohol, dros mil dos, you understand the nickname,
You understand the nickname, lyricists in the pilning
Hey you, motherfuckers "madafaka" black ...
In the texas studio, it's lyricists my wacho
Panchito start, yo, let it go
I smoke ice problem
Ou shit we're spinning, to the beat of smoke breathing,
Telling life stories, looking at the landscape of my room,
A panoramic, crazy I deal when the little motivation
And a sunstroke takes over,
My side, bandit, I give my blood
No one sold, less serious of the ansunto understood,
Others despair, for the bitch umbrella,
That they save with luca, with grandma, outside the fair,
And they go for coke, try this beast
They eat her whole mind, and they don't comment anything
And all fishing, this is light, pass the scissors
That there is no grinder, playing with the wood,
In the absence of a lighter
Hey sir, don't look at me like that, I don't go over the line,
There is no dialogue, a hard look
And point faggot, fist to fist, you shout I shout
Flight paper the pate and pass me that graphite.