Текст и перевод песни Boss AC - Pa Nada

Pa Nada

Hey nha brother
Npodé falá ma bo??
Uvi.
Xam kontôb um stôria k kontecê antes d bo nascê
Na txom d Cab Verd foi dondé k bos pais konxê
Nascid e criod na CV
Gent pobre ma gent dret
Orgulho na ses terra. Orgulho na ser pret.
Ès era nov junta um dinherinhe pa emigra
Beska um vida amdjor kuand vida dá ês ta voltá
Nunca és tinha oiód avião ma avião trás d ses terra
Bassorá ta sperá bo mãe, bo pai ta speral um serra
Trabói é txeu, dinher ca tem, és ca ta abituá kes frio
Na txom d Lisboa num casinha ranjód p um tio
És ta tra luz dum poste, calor só kemód lenha
Um grog na cop d bo pai
Bo mãe tava prenha
Nov mês passa Louvar a Deus ouv menim benitinhe, bo nascê gordinhe, txeu cabel, 4 kilinhe
Deus ta krê k bo ta kriá pa ser dotor, bo ca tiv luz ma ka faltób amor
(Bó inxada largal)
Ês dzé bo pai
(Cu trabadju mariadu oioioi)
Ês dzé bo mãe.
(Bó inxada largal)
Ês dzé bo pai.
(Cu trabadju mariado oioioi)
É sin kes dzé bo mãe
(Bó inxada largal)
Ône passá rápd nunca bo gosta descola, faltá aula pa fcá na rua ta jegá bola
Bo mãe ta arguí ced bo ta oial 1 vez pa semana, dos trabói um trás dot inter kmide um banana
Bo pai d vez em kuand fusk de vez em kuand carpinter
Bebida ma baseboll el fazel fidj mod amdjêr
Dia de bós ône ba pa nike ma bos brother, fmá high bebe cerveja na discoteca da moda
Robá corr pa passiá robá dinher pa gastá
Na bo cabeça bó é k ta mandá
Bzot é gangster famôse na zona
Dia inter ta uví rap, bzot ka ta gostá d morna
Madrugada na rua, kasa pa bo é gaiola
Largá stud na mon, troká kaneta pa pistola
Gostá d bo el ronjób trabói ta vende
Pensa na bo porra antes d bo fazé
Refrão
Trança na cabel
Brinc na orelha
Nike na pé
Perfume francês
Hoje bo tem um kriola pa kmê
Dia seguint kontá bós malta manera kel gemê
Kriola era sabinha ma se nom já bo eskcê
Té dia kel parce na bo casa ta txora
Dzid él ta k menine
Bo tem k trá
Já ca ta dá
É mdjor bo prepará mudança
Dzem kual é vida k bo tem pa dá pa es criança
Bó é konchid na zona, bo malta també
Bo mãe ta dób koncelhe ma bo ka ta uví k ningué
Bos pai luta pa bo ma bo skecê bo raiz
Dzem kem bo é, se já bo skecê bo país
Fidj d kriolo k ta fala kriol dzem sé kriol k bo é
Kasta d vida é éss k bo ta vive??
Bo ka tem desculpa bo é k traçá bo kaminhada
Bo mãe lutá pa bo pa nada
Refrão
Uví
Má se inxada
Txuba na txom
Trabadja terra

For Nothing

Hey brother
Can I talk to you??
Listen.
I want to tell you a story that happened before you were born
In Cape Verde, that's where your parents met
Born and raised in CV
Poor people but righteous people
Proud of their land. Proud to be black.
They were young, saving some money to emigrate
Seeking a better life, when life allows they'll return
They had never heard an airplane, but the airplane takes them from their land
Bassora awaits your mother, your father awaits a mountain
Work is hard, money is scarce, they can't get used to the cold
In Lisbon, in a small house rented from an uncle
They have light from a street lamp, warmth only from burning wood
A grog in your father's cup
Your mother was pregnant
Nine months pass, praise God, here's my little blessing, you were born chubby, lots of hair, 4 kilos
God wants you to grow up to be a doctor, you had no light but you had no lack of love
(Leave the hoe)
Your father says
(With hard work, oioioi)
Your mother says.
(Leave the hoe)
Your father says.
(With hard work, oioioi)
That's all your mother says
(Leave the hoe)
Years passed quickly, you never liked school, skipping class to play ball in the street
Your mother argues early, you listen once a week, from two jobs, one after another, like a banana
Your father sometimes a mason, sometimes a carpenter
Drinks but plays baseball, he did it yesterday, he'll do it tomorrow
On your birthday, you go to Nike but your brother, smokes weed, drinks beer in the trendy club
Steals and runs to have fun, steals money to spend
In your head, you're the one in charge
You're a famous gangster in the area
Every day you listen to rap, you don't like morna
Nights on the street, home is a cage for you
Dropped out of school at 16, traded pen for pistol
You like it when he cries, sells work
Think about your shit before you do it
Chorus
Braids in your hair
Earrings in your ear
Nike on your feet
French perfume
Today you have a girl to love
The next day you tell your friends how she moans
The girl was innocent but if not you already forgot her
Until the day her partner cries in your house
He says it's a girl
You have to take care of her
It's too late
You better prepare for change
What kind of life do you have to give this child
You're known in the area, your friends too
Your mother gives advice but you don't listen to anyone
Your parents fight for you but you forget your roots
Who are you, if you already forgot your country
Son of a Creole who speaks Creole, what kind of Creole are you
Is this the life you're living??
You have no excuse, you're the one who charts your path
Your mother fought for you for nothing
Chorus
Listen
Grab the hoe
Rain on the ground
Work the land