Текст и перевод песни Canserbero - Stop

Stop

"Stop, stop" dice la wiu wiu
Alerta, esconde la yerba el mio, pendiente, hey
Que quieren dinero, no protegen al ghetto
Son el hampa en uniform
"Stop, stop" dice la wiu wiu
Alerta, esconde la yerba el mio, pendiente, hey
Que quieren dinero, no protegen al ghetto
Son el hampa en uniform
A la derecha, antes de las buenas tardes
De inmediato noto, que su educación es pobre antes que hable
Me pide identificación con una fea expresión
Viendo a mi pana de color y a mis tatuajes
Yo le digo, no creo que me baje
Conozco bien mis derechos aunque no vista de traje
Así que observa mi identidad pero recuerda que no puedes retenerla
Mientras pienso: "es un come mierda este tipo"
Me dice que le importa un pito
Inventando leyes dice "baje del vehículo"
Ridículo, te repito que sé mis derechos, mientras pienso:
"Usted es un delincuente con placa en el pecho", lo aborrezco
Dice que dé pa' los refrescos o me va a sembrar sustancias
Ya que no parezco un empresario, yo le digo que somos del barrio
Como él, pero él se cree la ley cuando es un funcionario
Entonces noto que es lo mismo que hablar con locos, no escucha
Mucha placa pero poco coco
Llega otro guardia para sentirse más hombre
Pero en realidad ahora son ignorantes al doble
No toleran que la gente no hagan lo que ellos quieran
Y amenazan como buen bruto cuando se desespera
Y mientras el abuso reina en esta escena vean
Pasan camiones con armas y drogas en Beras
Los oficiales lo saben, pero se llenan de dinero mientras golpean a gente como Apa y Canserbero
Yo sé que hay excepciones pero, si hay algún policía honrado aquí que lance la piedra primero, porque
"Stop, stop" dice la wiu wiu
Alerta, esconde la yerba el mio, pendiente, hey
Que quieren dinero, no protegen al ghetto
Son el hampa en uniform
"Stop, stop" dice la wiu wiu
Alerta, esconde la yerba el mio, pendiente, hey
Que quieren dinero, no protegen al ghetto
Son el hampa en uniform
Si tú los vieras, cuando nos ven se ponen todos locos
Pelan los ojos como un búho, y pam, pierden el foco
Revisan, nos requisan, preguntan de todo un poco, como por ejemplo
¿El monte? Lo llevamos en el...
-¿Ustedes qué hacen?
Somos cantantes de música rap
-¿Y a dónde viven?
Él en Maracay y yo acá en Caracas
-¿Y hacia dónde se dirigen?
Vamo' al estudio a grabar
-Si los volvemos a ver los volveremos a parar
Ni que se metan en el carro, con su linterna y sus luces
Nunca se darán cuenta donde fue que yo las puse
Nos tratan mal, y delante de todo el mundo se lucen
Por eso es que aquí los tienen tildados como unos losers
Saca la radio y las esposas, si quieres radeame
Hazme pasar un mal rato paco, esta bien, raqueteame
Lacreate, anda, con tus compañeros matraqueame
Pero antes de llevarme, por lo menos, los derechos léame
Son peor que los apagones de inoportunos
Con una cara que no le han metido ni al desayuno
Vibra mala que nos para, pa' siempre enchavala
Pa' cortarla, pa' frustrarla, su odio lo pagan con uno
Tan todos picados los bichos, porque no encontraron na'
No le dimos ni pal' pasticho, no nos pudieron ganar (Jaja)
Ahora ya todo está dicho, no nos vamo' a complicar
Llámate a estos locos, y ahora sí la vamos a girá'
Abre el quemacoco que ya no escucho a los wiu wiu
Sigamos dando más vueltas que el propio Gurrufío
Por los caminos verdes, para despistar a estos tíos
Y si vemos que pasa una lady gritamos "Fiu fiu"
"Stop, stop" dice la wiu wiu
Alerta, esconde la yerba el mio, pendiente, hey
Que quieren dinero, no protegen al ghetto
Son el hampa en uniform
"Stop, stop" dice la wiu wiu
Alerta, esconde la yerba el mio, pendiente, hey
Que quieren dinero, no protegen al ghetto
Son el hampa en uniform

Stop

"Stop, stop," the siren wails,
Alert, my friend hides the weed, stay aware, hey,
They want money, they don't protect the ghetto,
They're the underworld in uniform.
"Stop, stop," the siren screams,
Alert, my friend hides the weed, stay aware, hey,
They want money, they don't protect the ghetto,
They're the underworld in uniform.
To the right, before the greetings,
I immediately notice his poor education before he speaks.
He asks for my ID with an ugly expression,
Looking at my friend of color and my tattoos.
I tell him, I don't think I'll get out,
I know my rights well even though I don't wear a suit.
So look at my ID, but remember you can't keep it,
While I think: "This guy's a piece of shit."
He tells me he doesn't give a damn,
Inventing laws, he says, "Get out of the vehicle."
Ridiculous, I repeat that I know my rights, while I think:
"You're a criminal with a badge on your chest," I loathe him.
He says to give him money for sodas or he'll plant substances on me,
Since I don't look like a businessman, I tell him we're from the barrio,
Like him, but he thinks he's the law when he's just a public servant.
Then I realize it's like talking to crazy people, he doesn't listen,
Lots of badge, but little brain.
Another guard arrives to feel more like a man,
But in reality, they're now twice as ignorant.
They can't stand people not doing what they want,
And they threaten like any brute when they get desperate.
And while abuse reigns in this scene, look,
Trucks pass by with weapons and drugs in Beras.
The officers know it, but they fill their pockets with money while they beat people like Apa and Canserbero.
I know there are exceptions, but if there's any honest cop here, let him cast the first stone, because
"Stop, stop," the siren wails,
Alert, my friend hides the weed, stay aware, hey,
They want money, they don't protect the ghetto,
They're the underworld in uniform.
"Stop, stop," the siren screams,
Alert, my friend hides the weed, stay aware, hey,
They want money, they don't protect the ghetto,
They're the underworld in uniform.
If you saw them, when they see us they go crazy,
They open their eyes wide like an owl, and bam, they lose focus.
They search, they frisk us, they ask all sorts of things, like for example
The weed? We carry it in the...
-What do you guys do?
We're rap music singers.
-And where do you live?
He in Maracay and I here in Caracas.
-And where are you headed?
We're going to the studio to record.
-If we see you again, we'll stop you again.
They can get in the car, with their flashlight and their lights,
They'll never know where I put them.
They treat us badly, and they show off in front of everyone,
That's why here they're branded as losers.
Take out the radio and the handcuffs, if you want, search me,
Make me have a hard time, cop, okay, harass me,
Go ahead, with your colleagues, bully me,
But before you take me away, at least read me my rights.
They're worse than untimely blackouts,
With a face that hasn't even been touched by breakfast.
Bad vibes that stop us, always mess with us,
To cut it short, to frustrate it, they take their hatred out on one,
They're all so pissed off, the bastards, because they didn't find anything,
We didn't give them a single penny, they couldn't beat us (Haha).
Now everything is said, we're not going to complicate things,
Call these crazy guys, and now we're going to turn it around.
Open the sunroof, I can't hear the sirens anymore,
Let's keep spinning more than Gurrufío himself,
Through the green paths, to throw these guys off the scent,
And if we see a lady pass by, we'll shout "Fiu fiu."
"Stop, stop," the siren wails,
Alert, my friend hides the weed, stay aware, hey,
They want money, they don't protect the ghetto,
They're the underworld in uniform.
"Stop, stop," the siren screams,
Alert, my friend hides the weed, stay aware, hey,
They want money, they don't protect the ghetto,
They're the underworld in uniform.