Paroles et traduction T&K - You Don't Know

You Don't Know

Goodfellas moterfekers
Goodfellas ok

Muchos no saben lo que digo
Por razones logicas no entienden de sonido
Rimo como escribo, ya no pienso rimas buenas
Lo saco para afuera como si molestan flemas

No escuchan mis temas
¿Me conocen? No es problema
El problema nace de la confusion que eso genera
Estoy afuera

De la crema quinceañera
De topos con new era
Que no aprecian la esencia de las pistas noventeras
¿Y que mas da?

Esta el que vive de mama
Te apunta con el dedo y te dice no sos real
Salgan a la calle, abran los ojos y pateen
El rap esta con lirica y tu monitor no ve

Yo tengo poesia para todo policia
Mis textos van rellenos como charro de maria
Los cortes de mi broda DJ Pharuk es cortesia
Fillin' in the sound true, mi crew te lo explica nigga

Se muy bien que significa
Que nadie te conozca si las cosas se complican
Que no te reconozcan lo que luego te critican
Y que escondan la mano cuando el piedrazo nos pica

(What?) La ciudad se queda chica
Y como no nos tragan al final se la mastican
Yo tengo mi mambo, rapero al mango
No me vendo por dos mangos y odio tu rap marica

Hago el rap que quiero hacer
Y elegiria este flash si es que asi vuelvo a nacer
Lo mio es estar como LeBron con un esferico
Ser George Schunk cruzando fronteras de Mexico

Pueden considerarme escéptico
Alérgico a raperos de TV y CD's patéticos
Lo mio no es gang ni new
Solo lo traje del Sur

No hago papel de thug, solo respeto a mi school
Goodfellas rankeando la R.E.L.A
Produciendo buena mierda
Que se esconde en Varela

Hay talento, reconocimiento en pavimento
Tambien hay muchos giles que te escupen contra el viento
Lo mio no son cuatro elementos (cuatro elementos)
Son ramas y raices que aplique en tempos bien lentos

Si quieren aprender, aprendan a no depender
De productores, de beatmakers o de MCs sin ofender
Todo es una mierda, asi van a entender
Que el que no es falso no te ayuda y el otro no duda en venderse

You Don't Know

Goodfellas moterfekers
Goodfellas ok

Many don't know what I'm saying
For logical reasons they don't understand sound
I rhyme as I write, I don't think good rhymes anymore
I take it out as if they disturb phlegm

They don't listen to my topics
Do you know me? It's not a problem
The problem arises from the confusion that this generates
I'm outside

From the quinceanera cream
Of moles with new era
Who do not appreciate the essence of the nineties tracks
And what does it matter?

This is the one who lives from mom
He points his finger at you and says you're not real
Go outside, open your eyes and kick
The rap is with lyrics and your monitor doesn't see

I have poetry for every cop
My texts are filled in like charro de maria
The cuts of my broda DJ Pharuk is courtesy
Fillin' in the sound true, my crew explains nigga

I know very well what it means
Don't let anyone know you if things get complicated
That they do not recognize you what they then criticize you
And that they hide their hand when the stone itches us

(What?) The city stays small
And since they don't swallow us, they chew it up in the end
Yo tengo mi mambo, rapper al mango
I don't sell myself for two mangos and I hate your queer rap

I do the rap I want to do
And I would choose this flash if that's how I'm born again
My thing is to be like LeBron with a spherical
Being George Schunk crossing Mexico's borders

You may consider me a skeptic
Allergic to pathetic TV rappers and CD's
It's not gang or new.
I just brought it from the South

I don't play thug, I just respect my school
Goodfellas ranking the R.E.L.A
Producing good shit
Who is hiding in Varela

There is talent, recognition on pavement
There are also many giles who spit at you against the wind
Mine are not four elements (four elements)
They are branches and roots that I apply in very slow tempos

If you want to learn, learn not to depend
From producers, beatmakers or MCs no offense
It's all bullshit, so they'll understand
That the one who is not fake does not help you and the other does not hesitate to sell