Paroles et traduction Piezas feat. Jayder - Mi Lado Amable

Mi Lado Amable

Querían ver mi lado amable y saqué un sable
Por creer que sintiéndose importantes iban a importarme
Mi pobreza es de un valor incalculable
Su ambición es un mosquito ahogado en un charco de sangre

Me vengaré vistiendo al luto de tirano
Como en una guerra abierta entre clanes gitanos
Saldré de la tarta con un arma entre las manos
Antes de que la novia amenace con lanzarme el ramo

Joder conmigo, es darle un abrazo a la muerte
Susurrándole al oído "no dueles lo suficiente"
Y difícilmente podrá sonar convincente
A sabiendas de que sabe que le miente, seh

Saca el pañuelo, cuando el éxito llore dinero
No se llega a la gloria haciendo dedo
Yo a duras penas ando, no tengo patria ni credo
Mi bandera es la ropa de mi hija colgando del tendedero

Bro, que la coman... Mis cifras no son reveladoras
Me lame las bolas si no me valoran
Más que frases sueltas, son patadas voladoras
Que te hacen darle más vueltas que un euro en la lavadora

Siempre respondí con ironismo
Que cuando quiera sufrir, me haré un beef conmigo mismo
Si le ha contado el mudo al sordo que el ciego le ha visto
Es que la falta de talento anda buscando un conflicto

Los analfabetos de hoy son los peores
Porque saben leer y escribir, pero no ejercen
Todo es superficial, frívolo
Para que ellos puedan entenderlo y digerirlo

Esos son, son socialmente la nueva clase dominante
Aunque siempre será la clase dominada
Precisamente por su analfabetismo y su incultura

Ven a la diana y van a hablarle de flechazos
Son como una mosca en busca de un aplauso
Si por aquí se celebra el tener trabajo
Es porque nada es más estable que el fracaso

Una voz me dice que salte y otra, que me tranquilice
La primera es cortante, la segunda es firme
Tan redundantes que de poco sirven
Cuando te gusta matarte no puedes conformarte con morirte

Tuve poder y nunca me sentí tan solo
La conocí y me decidí a perderlo todo
Dándome allí, me di la cura de la humildad de Khabib a Conor
Así hasta el gris aviva el tono

Tus letras sobre hacer valer a las tías
No calzan con contar a cuantas te follaste aquel día
Siguen mostrando sensibilidad cara a la galería
Pero el don de la verdad no es el de dar alegrías
Yo soy de ver cómo se atoran con la boca llena

Son el panadero a última hora, no tienen ni una barra buena
Vine a documentar el aguacero
No a ser el tonto que saluda tras el reportero
Dispara si quieres que baile

O te tallo la piedad en los colmillos de un rottweiler
O evitas que la lealtad caiga en manos del hambre
O a la hora de la verdad nadie conocerá a nadie
Your Big Bro, Call Me Big Pro

Yo nunca cedí como esas Deep Throats
Sigo tras la mirilla en este peep show
Viendo cómo te arrodillas por el cheese, hoe!
Soy de la escuela del "háztelo tú"

Autosuficiencia, Jordan en los Bulls
Intachable como Jim en "Man on the Moon"
Aquí si haces la Caín te dan la del atún
Te vi en la tele el otro día...

Tratando de mediatizar tu supuesta rebeldía
Vestías de cara honesta pa' despertar empatía
Pretendías vender y compraste lo que vendían
Adebayor con el City marcando al Arsenal

Siempre fui la ruina de aquel que vino a buscármela
No pienso agredir a mi moral con tal de transgredir
Y menos pa' que sus fans vengan detrás de mí

Y así nos va a los que no nos conformamos con tan poco

My Nice Side

You wanted to see my nice side and I pulled out a saber,
For believing that feeling important would make you matter to me.
My poverty is invaluable,
Your ambition is a mosquito drowned in a pool of blood.

I will avenge myself by dressing in the mourning of a tyrant,
As in an open war between gypsy clans,
I'll come out of the cake with a weapon in my hands,
Before the bride threatens to throw the bouquet at me.

Messing with me is like giving death a hug,
Whispering in her ear, "You don't hurt enough,"
And she can hardly sound convincing,
Knowing that she knows she's lying, seh.

Take out your handkerchief, when success cries money,
You don't get to glory by hitchhiking,
I barely walk, I have no country or creed,
My flag is my daughter's clothes hanging on the clothesline.

Bro, let them eat it... My numbers aren't revealing,
It licks my balls if they don't value me,
More than loose phrases, they are flying kicks,
That make you spin more than a euro in the washing machine.

I always responded with irony,
That when I want to suffer, I'll beef with myself,
If the mute told the deaf that the blind man saw him,
It's because the lack of talent is looking for conflict.

Today's illiterates are the worst,
Because they know how to read and write, but they don't practice,
Everything is superficial, frivolous,
So that they can understand and digest it.

Those are, they are socially the new ruling class,
Although it will always be the dominated class,
Precisely because of their illiteracy and lack of culture.

They go to the target and they're gonna tell her about crushes,
They are like a fly in search of applause,
If having a job is celebrated here,
It's because nothing is more stable than failure.

One voice tells me to jump and the other to calm down,
The first is sharp, the second is firm,
So redundant that they are of little use,
When you like to kill yourself you can't settle for dying.

I had power and never felt so alone,
I met her and decided to lose it all,
Giving myself there, I gave myself the cure of Khabib's humility to Conor,
So even gray brightens the tone.

Your lyrics about empowering chicks,
Don't fit with counting how many you fucked that day,
They continue to show sensitivity to the gallery,
But the gift of truth is not that of giving joy,
I'm one to see how they get stuck with their mouths full.

They are the baker at the last minute, they don't have a good loaf,
I came to document the downpour,
Not to be the fool who greets after the reporter,
Shoot if you want me to dance.

Or I carve pity into the fangs of a Rottweiler,
Or you prevent loyalty from falling into the hands of hunger,
Or in the time of truth no one will know anyone,
Your Big Bro, Call Me Big Pro.

I never gave in like those Deep Throats,
I'm still behind the peephole in this peep show,
Watching you get on your knees for the cheese, hoe!
I'm from the "do it yourself" school.

Self-sufficiency, Jordan on the Bulls,
Untouchable like Jim in "Man on the Moon,"
Here if you do Cain they give you tuna,
I saw you on TV the other day...

Trying to mediatize your supposed rebellion,
You wore an honest face to awaken empathy,
You intended to sell and you bought what they were selling,
Adebayor with City scoring against Arsenal.

I was always the ruin of the one who came looking for it,
I don't intend to attack my morals in order to transgress,
And less so that his fans come after me,

And this is how it goes for those of us who are not satisfied with so little.