Текст и перевод песни Big Soto - Cinco Pa' las Doce

Cinco Pa' las Doce

Tú te portas mal y lo peor es que no sabes disimular, yeah (no)
Puedo imaginar (yeh) ese culote haciéndome sudar

Faltan cinco pa' las doce y no es año nuevo (ah, ah; ah; no)
Yo quiero sentir el roce de tu pelo (no, no)
Tú encima de mí gritando y no por el dolor
Sé que solo quiere sexo, no quiere amor
Faltan cinco pa' las doce y no es año nuevo
Y yo quiero sentir el roce de tu pelo
Por ahora me quedo con la imaginación
De tu culo rebotando en mi habitación, bebé

Dime dónde tú estás (no, no), para ver si le llego (eh)
Ya no te quiero pensar (no, no), quiero hacértelo de nuevo (ah, ah)
En la habitación no veíamos Netflix (no, no)
Solamente era mi boca piloteando allá abajo como jetski, uh, yeh (no, no)

Tamo' high, me dice "baywatch"
Se arrebata quemando el hash (ah)
En la cama es dónde hacíamos match
Todo clic, fragancia splash

Sé que tú tiene' aparte de mí en la calle un par má'
Tanta malda' no sé dónde fue que salió, pero no es como mama, yeah

Yo abajo y tú arriba
Antes de comerte te caliento como comida, yeah (no, no)
En mi pecho de una mordida
Lo hacemos como si fuera una despedida, ieh (yeh, yeh, yeh; no, no)

Sin ropa parece obra de arte
Exclusiva, poco' llegan, ma', y ni con dinero pueden comprarte (no)
Yeah, sería un error amarte
Pero es difícil resistirse a la fruta prohibida aunque quiera matarte, yeh-yeh, eh

Sin ropa parece obra de arte
Exclusiva, poco' llegan, ma', y ni con dinero pueden comprarte (no)
Yeah, sería un error amarte
Pero es difícil resistirse a la fruta prohibida aunque quiera matarte, ah-ah

Tú te portas mal y lo peor es que no sabes disimular, yeah
Puedo imaginar (yeh) ese culote haciéndome sudar

Faltan cinco pa' las doce y no es año nuevo (ah, ah; no, no)
Yo quiero sentir el roce de tu pelo (no, no)
Tú encima de mí gritando y no por el dolor (no, no)
Sé que solo quiere sexo, no quiere amor (no, no; ah, ah, ah)
Faltan cinco pa' las doce y no es año nuevo (no, no)
Y yo quiero sentir el roce de tu pelo (no, no)
Por ahora me quedo con la imaginación (no, no)
De tu culo rebotando en mi habitación, bebé (no, no; yeah-eh)

Five to Twelve

You behave badly and the worst part is you don't know how to hide it, yeah (no)
I can imagine (yeh) that booty making me sweat

It's five to twelve and it's not New Year's Eve (ah, ah; ah; no)
I want to feel the brush of your hair (no, no)
You on top of me screaming and not from pain
I know you only want sex, you don't want love
It's five to twelve and it's not New Year's Eve
And I want to feel the brush of your hair
For now, I'm left with the imagination
Of your ass bouncing in my room, baby

Tell me where you are (no, no), so I can see if I can get there (eh)
I don't want to think about you anymore (no, no), I want to do it to you again (ah, ah)
In the room we weren't watching Netflix (no, no)
It was just my mouth piloting down there like a jet ski, uh, yeh (no, no)

We're high, she tells me "baywatch"
She gets carried away burning the hash (ah)
In bed is where we matched
Everything clicks, splash fragrance

I know you have a couple more besides me on the street
So much badness I don't know where it came from, but it's not like mama, yeah

Me down and you up
Before I eat you, I warm you up like food, yeah (no, no)
On my chest with a bite
We do it like it's a farewell, ieh (yeh, yeh, yeh; no, no)

Without clothes you look like a work of art
Exclusive, few reach you, ma, and even with money they can't buy you (no)
Yeah, it would be a mistake to love you
But it's hard to resist the forbidden fruit even if it wants to kill you, yeh-yeh, eh

Without clothes you look like a work of art
Exclusive, few reach you, ma, and even with money they can't buy you (no)
Yeah, it would be a mistake to love you
But it's hard to resist the forbidden fruit even if it wants to kill you, ah-ah

You behave badly and the worst part is you don't know how to hide it, yeah
I can imagine (yeh) that booty making me sweat

It's five to twelve and it's not New Year's Eve (ah, ah; no, no)
I want to feel the brush of your hair (no, no)
You on top of me screaming and not from pain (no, no)
I know you only want sex, you don't want love (no, no; ah, ah, ah)
It's five to twelve and it's not New Year's Eve (no, no)
And I want to feel the brush of your hair (no, no)
For now, I'm left with the imagination (no, no)
Of your ass bouncing in my room, baby (no, no; yeah-eh)