Paroles et traduction en anglais Marcelo - Filter (feat. DJ Raid, Ministar Lingvista, Flip-Flop, Timjah)

Filter (feat. DJ Raid, Ministar Lingvista, Flip-Flop, Timjah)

Ovoj sceni treba filter, svi krem, a stila nigde, pizde!
Geto pishtolji igre, sikter! Stikom za klince plitke
Moj flow-pedigre: teshka artiljerija,
Masakr za skill shto vredi kol'ko smeshna bizuterija!
Inspiracija svuda - rima puna sveska, stizu Gremija!
Do juche me mrze, a danas poput peshka, lizu meni ga!
Tebi premija kad ubodesh punch je!
Afro-pelcer, a nashe face.
Shkart i feler! Ovo lichan pik je
Na sve te dechje slichne spike!
"Ringe ringe raja" sistem, iste priche valjash, prike,
Nigde niste! Tajac! Filter kad stigne, zbrishe ko tvister!
CHelo de Facto te secira! Sprechi ga nechim sad!
Rechita sechiva vechita pretnja sam!
Stereofrik nikad stereotip! Deremo bit i tvoj demo skill,
Kao chernobil, izmutirao stil - 'ajmo deco shpirnt, stize pedofil!
I - vec dat mat, vi ste hteli rat, i kad tad biste sveli gard
Na klinch, jer tata deli sad shamarchine - sledi pad za
Shamanchine trendi faca, bez tiraza, bledi pazar!
Ne seri vazdan pricha prazna o choshku na kojem vileni bagra:
"Tebra prosh'o sam svashta, na licu geto brazda"
...koga za sve to zabole kurac krasan?
Farsa sarkazma vlada: gengsta-dens, fiesta-tresh, svi "so clean, so fresh",
Al' sinko, ti to sve vasljash za kesh mitove koje sanjash zar ne?
Glup si ko kurac, buraz, furash zon usran!
Hirurshki precizno deremo, peremo sve to nechisto s puta!
Plus, moj majk je moj rat - tvoj start je tvoj falsh,
Plus imash pozdrav od Minje Subote - kaze da mikrofon je nash, bich!
Ne mrdam ni inch - linch za tvoj rep-kich kapish?
Zato je switch, sad si - dim!

(Ministar Lingvista):
Jesi slavan - al' si slepac kao autor "Troje", sine!
Kad te sjebem, slepe ulice nosice tvoje ime,
To je za pojedine chije veshtine pljujem,
Sushtina rime - tu je, pa ne moram da imenujem
Mca chija poezija prija samo deci:
'Vamo "rija-gija", "rija-gija" tamo. Seci!
I reci, i ti i tvoja "vadimo gije posada",
Da li ste ikad ubili neshto shto nije dosada?
"Ma jebesh cenzuru" Fond rechi ti je sjajan,
Al' na jeziku nemash dlake zato shto brijem jaja!
Dechko, ti mislish da si vesht? Optimist si...
A ja - kontraverzan, jer sam sve shto ti nisi:
Neukrotiv, strashan, pa mi je motiv snazan
Kol'ko i fakat da ti je svakog jutra frotir vlazan,
Jer sanjash kesh od tiraza... rushim ti san k'o pirati!
...ako je vreme novac, uskoro cesh bankrotirati!:
U novoj shkoli budi marljivo dete spremni da spalimo sve te
Jebene marionete, pazljivo, 'de cesh?
A shalu na stranu, skidam ti kapu, izd'o si album,
Taj tiraz ti je visok, care, jeb'o si mu mamu...
A marketing pravi ti saveti, sve cave i gotovi spotovi,
Krimi likovi, zlotvori, sine.
Shta josh treba da bi, eto, danas prodao taj album?
Jeb'o mater, jel' to beshe stvarno ono sve shto znate?
A flow ti je nesnosan - ti si nervozan i nepoznat,
Ti jesi reper-bog, jer za tebe samo nebo zna.
Ekstremna postava? Vi ste nezrela postava!
Epitet shmekera postavljash ispred repera-kloshara.
Od izlizanih rima - sve do glupavih freestyle-ova,
Do ortaka koji dodju da bi urlali bez razloga.
Na tu prichu dize se masa ko meni, bato, kurac na Bozen
-Joj kakva utvara, Boze.
Al' kad vidim kako zivimo - meni bude do jaja!
Vidim kom se divimo... spremi uvek svoj barjak!
Spreman za napad, nemiran sada, dresiram stada!
De si sad, batac? Zar se, brate, nervirash danas?
Sve za ljubitelje trafika i krimi likova:
Posle toliko zajebanih, da i publika zajebe im koncert!
... a na majku uvek redovan, negovan repertoar,
Jebemajku preko redova, sjeb'o vas reper ovaj!

(Timjah da Sensei):
Obrishite bulje kada ustanete s noshe!
Svi ste poznate face. al ja stvarno ne znam ko ste,
Jer nosite maske, dok sanjate porshe,
I gde ste bili, s kim i kad me ne zanima uopshte!
Realnost iz mashte. malo sakrijte kompleks.
Hteli bi da ste kul? Insistirate na tome??
Dirate mi rep, i tu nastaje problem!
...pa sam dosh'o da vas malo spustim dole (tako radim!)
Nemoguca misija, jer ste toliko nisko samim tim
Shto ne cenite sebe, pa se poredite s nekim drugim.
Ovo sranje nije battle, jer vasha pricha gubi!
I rech-dve o kinti: skill ne mozesh da kupish!
Pa ti skapiraj i crkni, mozesh samo da me mrzish
-Kad chujesh bit da prshti, Dzutima da grmi.
.I za nanet dushevni bol mozesh samo da me tuzish,
Al' prvo obrishi bulju sveskom 'de su ti tekstovi otuzni!

Filter (feat. DJ Raid, Minister Lingvist, Flip-Flop, Timjah)

This scene needs a filter, everyone's cream, but no style anywhere, bitches!
Ghetto pistol games, get lost! Stick for shallow kids
My flow-pedigree: heavy artillery,
Massacre for skill that's worth as much as funny costume jewelry!
Inspiration everywhere - rhymes filling notebooks, Grammys coming!
Yesterday they hated me, today like a pawn, they lick it for me!
You get a prize when you land a punchline!
Afro-scion, and our faces.
Discard and defect! This is a personal pick
On all those childish similar spikes!
"Ringe ringe raja" system, same stories you're rolling, tricks,
You're nowhere! Silence! When the filter arrives, they vanish like a tweeter!
CHelo de Facto dissects you! Stop him with something now!
Rechita's incisors, I'm an eternal threat!
Stereofrik never a stereotype! We tear up the beat and your demo skill,
Like Chernobyl, mutated style - let's go kids, run, the pedophile is coming!
And - checkmate already, you wanted war, and sooner or later you would have lowered your guard
To a clinch, because daddy is handing out slaps now - a fall follows for
Shamanchine trendy face, no circulation, pale market!
Don't bullshit, the story is always empty about the pig on which the rabble hangs:
"Bro, I've been through everything, a ghetto scar on my face"
...who the fuck cares, handsome?
The farce of sarcasm reigns: gangsta-dance, fiesta-trash, everyone "so clean, so fresh",
But buddy, you're selling all that for cash, myths you dream of, right?
You're dumb as fuck, bro, you're driving a shitty zone!
We tear surgically precisely, we wash all that dirt off the road!
Plus, my mic is my war - your start is your fake,
Plus you have greetings from Minja Subota - he says the microphone is ours, bitch!
I'm not moving an inch - lynching for your rap-dick, get it?
That's why it's a switch, now you're - smoke!

(Minister Lingvist):
You're famous - but you're blind as the author of "Troje", son!
When I fuck you, blind alleys will bear your name,
This is for individuals whose skills I spit on,
The essence of rhyme - it's here, so I don't have to name names
Pussy whose poetry only pleases children:
'Here "rija-gija", "rija-gija" there. Cut it!
And tell me, you and your "we're pulling out guns" crew,
Have you ever killed anything that isn't boredom?
"Fuck censorship" Your vocabulary fund is brilliant,
But you have no hair on your tongue because I shave my balls!
Boy, you think you're skilled? You're an optimist...
And I - controversial, because I'm everything you're not:
Indomitable, scary, so my motive is strong
As much as the fact that your towel is wet every morning,
Because you dream of cash from circulation... I'm breaking your dream like pirates!
...if time is money, you'll soon go bankrupt!:
In the new school, be a diligent child, ready to burn all those
Fucking puppets, carefully, where are you going?
And jokes aside, I take my hat off to you, you released an album,
That circulation is high, man, you fucked his mom...
And marketing makes you advice, all ready-made and finished videos,
Criminal characters, villains, son.
What else is needed to, well, sell that album today?
Fuck, was that really all you know?
And your flow is unbearable - you're nervous and unknown,
You are a rapper-god, because only the sky knows about you.
Extreme lineup? You're an immature lineup!
You put the epithet of a dude in front of a rapper-bum.
From worn-out rhymes - all the way to stupid freestyles,
To buddies who come to scream for no reason.
The crowd rises to that story like my dick, bro, on Bozen
-Oh what a ghost, God.
But when I see how we live - I don't give a fuck!
I see who we admire... always prepare your flag!
Ready for attack, restless now, I train herds!
Where are you now, tough guy? Are you getting nervous today, bro?
Everything for lovers of newsstands and criminal characters:
After so many fucked up ones, let the audience fuck up their concert too!
... and on mom, always a regular, well-groomed repertoire,
Fuck your mother over the lines, this rapper fucked you up!

(Timjah da Sensei):
Wipe your mugs when you get up from the night!
You're all familiar faces, but I really don't know who you are,
Because you wear masks, while you dream of Porsches,
And where you were, with whom and when I don't care at all!
Reality from imagination, hide your complex a little.
You wish you were cool? You insist on that??
You touch my rap, and that's where the problem arises!
...so I came to bring you down a little (that's how I do it!)
Mission impossible, because you're so low by that very fact
That you don't value yourselves, so you compare yourselves to someone else.
This shit is not a battle, because your story loses!
And a word or two about money: you can't buy skill!
So get it and die, you can only hate me
-When you hear the beat crackle, Juicy J to thunder.
.And for mental pain you can only sue me,
But first wipe your mug with the notebook where your pathetic lyrics are!