Paroles et traduction Yammir - Achiz!

Achiz!

Yah-yah-yah, ja
Clear Music
Gabo en el beat
Dímelo, Chris J, ¡wuh!, ja

Amarillo, flow piccino, base con Versace, achí'
Alérgico a la shi', je
Persa de persa' en Chile y el hocico pasa'o a hachís
Soy puro cheetah, a tu perra testeé
Le di este TT y toma vístete, te grabé este tema
Porque me viste y te dieron ganas de escribir así
Oíste, toy, no pudiste-te y

La raza más cara que los vuela sin un papel
Tú sacándote fotos pa'l insta con un vaper
¿Quién es Mbappé? Que al minuto cero las botella' las destapé
Es el tubo de escape, suelto lava, tu cara empapé
Ponte Pamper', que cagaste pa' perri y si es que
Me empepé, se me olvidó, así que pásame una Percocet

Estamo' en party, hola, mami, ¿te gustaría toser?
Tú 'tás con tu amiga, mmm, podría ser
Te gusta el patapum al parecer, aprieto el ritmo y lo hago desaparecer
Pata-pata-pata-pum, lejos sin catapul'
Si andas conmigo andamo' 'uller, fuma' pura spoon
Tu cintura es mi correa, la nota por Neptune
Y el Gabo te puso este beat pa' que revientes con el bun-bun-bun
Y dale, muévelo, tengo unos cogollo', mami, muélelo'
Cannabis formé, mi perfume ven huélelo
Y cébelo con ese culo y ese pelo
Te fuiste lejos, mami, te espero

Así que calla'o, el cambio ha pasa'o
Por si se aparece algún ala'o
Van pa' la rodilla o pa'l tobillo, auch
Aucha, que vienen las do'
Así que calla'o, el cambio ha pasa'o
Por si se aparece algún ala'o
Van pa' la rodilla o pa'l tobillo, auch
Aucha, que vienen las do'

Así que súbele y métele el code L que tiene el Memo
¿Oíste, Lachela? Tú estás dentro de la tele, no smoke
Y siempre o se ve tan puro o no se ve
Pero se le ve que quiere que la ensalive
Salí vendiéndola y, ¿qué fue?
Si está gua' el pun-patapun, chao
Lo' ojo' 'tán hinchao', los celu' pinchao'
Pero no han hinchao', entran pa la bóve' y se van ranchao'
No hay cacha'o o despacha'o, chao

Que me toca a mí, a tu cigarra ya-ya sé, le aprieto el clima
Mi historia en los parlante' sonando con Nico Clear
Gabo, te partí el beat, quedan bizco' y no una disco
Imagina lo que viene, vis, vis pa' los malhablao'
Su cara está en mi tapiz y la piso
Dímelo, Chris, si has produci'o algo pareci'o a-a-a "Achiz!"

Ah, ah, 'tamo' alérgico' a lo' envidioso'
Y canté puras hueva' pa' que sepan que está tira'o eso
Vamo' a soltar calle pa' la calle y comercio pa'l dinero
Yah-yah-yah, ah, yah-yah-yah, ah
Nico Clear, Clear Music
Ah, dímelo, Chris J, dímelo, Gabo, ah-ah-ah
Ultrap is coming, Clear Music (ah-ah)

Ouch!

Yeah, yeah, yeah, ah
Clear Music
Gabo on the beat
Tell me, Chris J, whoop!, yeah

Yellow, petty flow, base with Versace, ouch
Allergic to the shit, huh
Persian in Chile, and the face smells like hashish
I'm a pure cheetah, I tested your bitch
I gave her this TT, now get dressed, I recorded this song for you
Because you saw me and you wanted to write like that
Listen, boy, you couldn't do it

The most expensive race that flies without a paper
You're taking pictures for Instagram with a vaporizer
Who's Mbappé? I uncorked the bottles at the zero minute
It's the exhaust pipe, I spew lava, I soaked your face
Put on a diaper, you shit like a dog, and if it is
I got carried away, I forgot, so pass me a Percocet

We're at a party, hey, baby, would you like to cough?
You're with your friend, mmm, maybe
You like the patapum, it seems, I squeeze the rhythm and make it disappear
Pata-pata-pata-pum, away without a catapult
If you're with me, let's go crazy, smoke pure spoon
Your waist is my belt, the note by Neptune
And Gabo gave you this beat to make you explode with the bun-bun-bun
Come on, move it, I have some buds, baby, grind them
Cannabis I formed, my perfume, come smell it
And bait him with that ass and that hair
You went too far, baby, I'll wait for you

So shut up, the change has happened
In case a weirdo shows up
They go to the knee or to the ankle, ouch
Ouch, the two are coming
So shut up, the change has happened
In case a weirdo shows up
They go to the knee or to the ankle, ouch
Ouch, the two are coming

So turn it up and play the code L that Memo has
Listen, Lachela? You're on TV, no smoke
And it always looks so pure or it doesn't
But you can see that he wants her to suck on it
I went out selling it, and what?
If the pun-patapun is good, bye
The eyes are swollen, the cells are stuck
But they haven't been inflated, they enter the vault and leave randomly
There's no shooting or dispatching, bye

That's for me, your cicada already knows, I'll put the climate on
My story in the speakers playing with Nico Clear
Gabo, I broke your beat, they're cross-eyed and not a disco
Imagine what's coming, visit for the foul-mouthed
Their face is on my tapestry, and I step on it
Tell me, Chris, if you've produced anything like-a-a "Ouch!"

Ah, ah, we're allergic to the jealous ones
And I sang pure nonsense to let them know it's thrown away
We're going to release street for the street and commerce for the money
Yah-yah-yah, ah, yah-yah-yah, ah
Nico Clear, Clear Music
Ah, tell me, Chris J, tell me, Gabo, ah-ah-ah
Ultrap is coming, Clear Music (ah-ah)