Paroles et traduction Marcelo - Teška artiljerija

Teška artiljerija

Od Paracina do Bagdale hvatam zalet za zaplet:
Zapeti snajper kasabe, uz flou klase klaster,
Na zov ove masne matre. Moj sou jebe k′o pas mater
I s mase marve smakne maske.
Govnima master-maler. Ustima bagre flaster.
Dusima sajber-sage vicem sta im stvarnost sapce.
Nabijam im kapke na sunceve zrake da shvate.
Nojevima silom cupam glavu iz peska i krivim je,
Guram im noseve u javu da smrcu moje linije.
(Pssst... vec deset godina...)
Dolazim na strokavom pacovu sto se zove Istina,
Pracen hordama ponizenih viteza
Sto su upalili baklje i obogaljeni digli stake:
Armagedon-torpedo ciji su amblem gas-maske!
Polomili kavez, jurnuli da kazne
Mazge sto gaze smisao, pamet i savest.
Tu sam da stoki pijem krv poput Cupakabre.
Radioaktivan – jer svaki radio vrti ovo sranje!
Refren (DJ Raid)
Shorty: "Pogodi ko se vratio na radio..." – Marcelo: "Filter." – Ministar Lingvista: "Posebna legija."
Timbe: "Mikrofon i ritam." – Marcelo: "Teska artiljerija."
(Ministar)
Dozvoli da te upoznam sa Filter Crew-om:
Nabij tuki u uvo, brate, jebes sta si cuo!
Ovo sto slusas sad je rad koji lomi vrat.
Ruke gore! Gori grad, 'tori!
Kad na nebu vidis gas-masku,
Znas da veceras ides na nas nastup.
Masa se bori za vazduh, klubovi nam postaju tesni,
Pa sou radimo na krovu, ne u diskoteci.
Reci, ko ne bi hteo deo toga?
Ja sam vreo kao... (ccc)! Ja sam neophodan.
Treba samo malo mozga, prepoznaj znanje:
Came ne veruju da sam beo kada cuju sranje.
Uletim ti na gajbu iz fazona "sta sam jeo?!"
I prebijem te tiganjem.
Svaki stih vredi vise nego kes koji u spotu bacite.
Sranje udara u glavu, ortaci furaju kacige!
(Marcelo)
Moje ime je trauma za djubrad, muka za sljam.
Toliko psiho da Fredi place kad mi dodje u san!
Ovo je skolovodja djavo – edukuj se, majmune.
Zovi zanr kako god, vazno da te sahranjuje.
(Ministar)
Pricajmo o klanju, jer zaklali smo bit
Stilom ostrijim od polomljenog stakla.
Mi smo zli! To je fakat – pa kad ritam krene,
Bolje sidji s bine, jer ova ekipa cene.
(Marcelo)
Ne prodajem muda za bubrege, niti bulju za dukate:
Ovo je bodljikava zika kojom davim neo-paore.
De Facto Celo – mamojeb, ritam je moja biblija.
Van mode i klisea – Filter, stihija stihova.
(Ministar)
U zadnji cas, stize spas hip-hopa!
Oni koji su zakasnili su se zaprepastili
Kol′ko smo opasniji, kol'ko smo masniji
Od svega sto su ikad culi. Raid, objasni im!

Heavy artillery

From Paracino to Bagdale, I get a run-in for the plot:
Sniping at the top of the class,
In the name of this great mother. My show is fucked like a mother
And with the mass of Marva, he takes out the masks.
Shit master-Badger. Mouth bagre patch.
The souls of cyber-sagas are whispered by reality.
I shove my eyelids on the sun's rays to make them understand.
I'm pulling my head out of the sand and blaming it,
I push their noses into the Java to kill my lines.
(Pssst... for ten years...)
I'm on a tight rat called Truth,
Followed by hordes of humble Knights
They've got the flares and the cripples up the stakes:
Armageddon is a torpedo with a gas mask.
Broke the cage, rushed to punish
A mule that tramples on sense, wit, and conscience.
I'm here to drink blood like Cupacabra.
Radioactive-because every radio spins this shit!
Chorus (DJ Raid
Shorty: "guess who's back on the radio..."- Marcelo: "Filter."- Minister linguist: "special Legion."
Timbe: "microphone and rhythm."- Marcelo: "heavy artillery."
(Minister)
Let me introduce you to the Filter Crew:
Stick tuki in your ear, brother, fuck what you heard!
What you're hearing right now is a neck-breaking piece of work.
Hands up! Burning town, ' tori!
When you see a gas mask in the sky,
You know you're going to our show tonight.
The crowd is fighting for air, the clubs are getting tight,
Well, we do the show on the roof, not at the disco.
Who wouldn't want a piece of that?
I'm hot like... (ccc)! I'm indispensable.
You just need a little bit of knowledge:
Came Don't believe I'm white when they hear shit.
I walk into your crib like, " What did I eat?!"
And I beat you with a frying pan.
Each verse is worth more than the cash you throw in the video.
Shit goes to the head, buddies shoving helmets!
(Marcelo)
My name is trauma to scum, pain to scum.
I'm so excited to see Freddy fall asleep!
This is the schoolmaster devil – educate yourself, monkey.
Call zanar anyway, it's important to bury you.
(Minister)
Let's talk about Slaughter, ' cause we slaughtered the essence
I'm looking for a style of broken glass.
We're evil! That's when the rhythm starts,
You better get out of here, because this team is worth it.
(Marcelo)
I don't Sell Kidney balls, I don't sell butt for ducats.:
This is the prickly zika I'm strangling neo-paore with.
De Facto whole motherfucker, rhythm is my Bible.
Out of fashion and cliche-Filter, verse lyrics.
(Minister)
At the last minute, the salvation of hip-hop is coming!
Those who were late were astonished
How tough we are, how fat we are
From everything they've ever heard. Raid, explain!