Текст и перевод песни Cevlade feat. Dj Cidtronyck - Mis Principios No Son Show

Mis Principios No Son Show

Yo, yo, yo no vine pa' que la pa' la pases bien
Vine pa' que mi poesía llegue a mucha más gente
Mis principios no son show ya, show ya
Tus manos nunca con mi soul ya, ouh da
No vine pa' que brindemos con heineken
Vine pa' que mi poesía llegue a mucha más gente
Mis principios no son show ya, show ya
Tus manos nunca con mi soul ya, ouh da

No vine a levantar tu fiesta ni a animar tu pub
Yo no quiero un trough your hands up
Eso no es parte de mi rap
No es el verso el ver llover, es escribir en pos de paz
No es ir hasta atras por más pelás de botas blancas
MC's se ajustan a lo que el público pide
Piden rap ¡originala! da igual cuantos beats arruinen
Sin embargo miren viven al vaivén de lo que exhiben
Si ven a uno alimenten su ego primero eso los oprime
Por eso escriben, por eso copian
Otros MC's balbuceando letras inentendibles que rimen
Por eso estos weones siguen
Porque hay weones más weones que los siguen
Porque todos persiguen
Identificarse con un ídem
El MC del quiere ver que todos vacilen
Y se priven de crecer pues no conciben
Ser el mejor si no hay miles de weones
Que les tiren flores por donde caminen
No sé si me entiendes ni me importa si decides
No entender que el aplauso se recibe, no se consigue
La mediocridad impide que por fin se perfilen
Como opción ante el silencio
Cuando el que sabe opine,
Dicen utilizar el rap como arte
Esa es una premisa que ni el más generoso comparte
El arte por definición es expresión del alma
¿Entonces tu alma te pide que alcen las manos que salten?
Yo digo que es el ego herido unos años antes
De un logi en el cole
Que el como MC es popular e interesante
Es inquietante tu modo de auto censurarte
Al menos en una parte de tu rap
Tu podrías sincerarte.

Yo, yo, yo no vine pa' que la pa' la pases bien
Vine pa' que mi poesía llegue a mucha más gente
Mis principios no son show ya, show ya
Tus manos nunca con mi soul ya, ouh da
No vine pa' que brindemos con heineken
Vine pa' que mi poesía llegue a mucha más gente
Mis principios no son show ya, show ya
Tus manos nunca con mi soul ya, ouh da

No vine a hacer saltar a nadie
Si a mi me da igual que rabies, blabies
La diestra, la siniestra es el Cevla odia fiestas barbarie
Mientras que es el pie, al incapié, lo que rapié
Y en lo que pienso el tiempo que
La audiencia piensa en arrojar la primera pie-dra
¿Cuantos somos ye-ye?
¿A cuanto weon influencié?
¿Cuanta escuela hice?
Cuantos cortan y pegan "sin"
Cuantos cortan y pegan "sam"
Como en su momento el Sef
Conocer mi rap, no significa conocerme
Conocerme no es igual a comprenderme
Entre tenerte y no tenerte yo prefiero entretenerme
Soñar es facilito no necesito venderme
No cachabas tal detalle, por eso no ves mi nombre en flyers
No existe el taller que enseñe a olvidar el ayer
Se que esperan ver que falle
Que el dolor por fin me acalle
Saben bien que si no rapeo es muy probable que estalle
Mas mi verso ahora en tu calle
Otro palacio de Versalles
El execeso de layer diet
Me impide que me explaye
Poesía es el remedio y es bueno aunque no es bayer
Improviso mi elejías sobre un tema de Isaac Hayes
No promuevo ni me identifico con ningunismos
Si hay algo que represento es el serle fiel a uno mismo
Mis tristezas distan de las mismas
Ideas de artistas con la vizta pisca
Es astigmatismo por esitgmo

Yo, yo, yo no vine pa' que la pa' la pases bien
Vine pa' que mi poesía llegue a mucha más gente
Mis principios no son show ya, show ya
Tus manos nunca con mi soul ya, ouh da
No vine pa' que brindemos con heineken
Vine pa' que mi poesía llegue a mucha más gente
Mis principios no son show ya, show ya
Tus manos nunca con mi soul ya, ouh da

No se hagan llamar poetas
Si no respetan las letras
Si solo leen y cachan tetas
Si su receta es, vacilón piño y cuneta
Y aliterar la aliteración hasta dejarla obsoleta
Yo no quiero ver que salten
Ni que cabeceen
Prefiero pensar que piensan
También que a veces leen
Muchos no creen
Pero preguntale al Aerstame
Como se siente que luego de la ovacion te pifeen
No vine a decirles yo qué pensar
No promuevo alcohol ni drogas
Yo solo te invito a reflexionar
Aunque no esté de acuerdo estoy dispuesto a respetar
Pues escribo lo que dicta mi alma
¡no escribo de carretear!
No promuevo que el rap
Sea la excusa, es un fin
No es un medio pues de medio cochino de bling bling
Nada a fin a mi ingenio sin fin
De weones que intentan arruinar al rap
Con su flow ruin
Yo imagino ser tin tin, inidagar cada confín
Con la chispa de Tin Tan y la pasión que hay en Marín
Un festín de rimas encerrao en mi camerín
No quiero verte gata sobre el tejao de zinc
Mi mensaje es la reflexión yo
No tengo un plan
Mas que gozar de las maravillas que nos rodean
Dentro del under soy under
Da igual si me cuestionan
Yo tranqui
Porque sé que tu idolo es mi fan

Yo, yo, yo no vine pa' que la pa' la pases bien
Vine pa' que mi poesía llegue a mucha más gente
Mis principios no son show ya, show ya
Tus manos nunca con mi soul ya, ouh da
No vine pa' que brindemos con heineken
Vine pa' que mi poesía llegue a mucha más gente
Mis principios no son show ya, show ya
Tus manos nunca con mi soul ya, ouh da

El rap chileno ha crecido mucho en skills y talento
Pero, casi nada en pensamiento
Yo no les compro a estos MC's de fiestas
De coleccionar groupies
Y de samplear a diestra y siniestra
Lo minimo po weón antes de chantarle el bass
Es que sepas algo del artista al cual le robas
Pa' ustedes samplear es la única manera de componer
Pa' mi es homenajear a quien hizo de su música un placer
¡Que levanten las manos!
¡Que levanten las manos!
¿Te creí Americo weón?
No, con mi gente no hay mano
Grupos de weones en el escenario
Hasta en su casa andan en grupo ¿y yo?
Soy un lobo estepario

Yo, yo, yo no vine pa' que la pa' la pases bien
Vine pa' que mi poesía llegue a mucha más gente
Mis principios no son show ya, show ya
Tus manos nunca con mi soul ya, ouh da
No vine pa' que brindemos con heineken
Vine pa' que mi poesía llegue a mucha más gente
Mis principios no son show ya, show ya
Tus manos nunca con mi soul ya, ouh da

My Principles Are Not a Show

Yo, yo, yo I didn't come for you to have a good time
I came for my poetry to reach many more people
My principles are not a show, yeah, show, yeah
Your hands will never touch my soul, yeah, ouh da
I didn't come for us to toast with Heineken
I came for my poetry to reach many more people
My principles are not a show, yeah, show, yeah
Your hands will never touch my soul, yeah, ouh da

I didn't come to lift your party or cheer up your pub
I don't want a "throw your hands up"
That's not part of my rap
The verse is not seeing the rain fall, it's writing for peace
It's not going back there for more white boot money
MC's adjust to what the public asks for
They ask for rap! Original! It doesn't matter how many beats they ruin
However look, they live at the mercy of what they exhibit
If they see one, they feed their ego first, that oppresses them
That's why they write, that's why they copy
Other MC's babbling unintelligible lyrics that rhyme
That's why these dudes continue
Because there are dudes more foolish than those who follow them
Because everyone pursues
Identifying with an idem
The MC wants to see everyone hesitate
And deprive themselves of growing up because they can't conceive
Being the best if there aren't thousands of dudes
Who throw flowers wherever they walk
I don't know if you understand me, nor do I care if you decide
Not to understand that applause is received, not earned
Mediocrity prevents them from finally being profiled
As an option before silence
When the one who knows opines,
They say they use rap as art
That's a premise that not even the most generous shares
Art by definition is the expression of the soul
So your soul asks you to raise your hands, to jump?
I say it's the wounded ego a few years earlier
Of a "logi" at school
That as an MC he is popular and interesting
It's disturbing your way of censoring yourself
At least in one part of your rap
You could be sincere.

Yo, yo, yo I didn't come for you to have a good time
I came for my poetry to reach many more people
My principles are not a show, yeah, show, yeah
Your hands will never touch my soul, yeah, ouh da
I didn't come for us to toast with Heineken
I came for my poetry to reach many more people
My principles are not a show, yeah, show, yeah
Your hands will never touch my soul, yeah, ouh da

I didn't come to make anyone jump
If you rage, blabies, I don't care
The right, the left, Cevla hates barbaric parties
While it's the foot, to the beat, what I rap
And what I think the time that
The audience thinks of throwing the first stone
How many of us are there, ye-ye?
How many dudes did I influence?
How much school did I do?
How many cut and paste "without"
How many cut and paste "sam"
As in his time the Sef
Knowing my rap doesn't mean knowing me
Knowing me is not the same as understanding me
Between having you and not having you I prefer to entertain myself
Dreaming is easy, I don't need to sell myself
You didn't realize such a detail, that's why you don't see my name on flyers
There is no workshop that teaches you to forget yesterday
I know they're waiting to see me fall
That the pain finally silences me
They know well that if I don't rap it's very likely that I'll explode
But my verse is now on your street
Another Palace of Versailles
Excess layer diet
Prevents me from expanding
Poetry is the remedy and it's good although it's not Bayer
I improvise my elegies on an Isaac Hayes theme
I don't promote nor do I identify with any 'isms'
If there's anything I represent, it's being true to yourself
My sorrows are different from the same
Ideas of artists with blurred vision
It's astigmatism by isthmus

Yo, yo, yo I didn't come for you to have a good time
I came for my poetry to reach many more people
My principles are not a show, yeah, show, yeah
Your hands will never touch my soul, yeah, ouh da
I didn't come for us to toast with Heineken
I came for my poetry to reach many more people
My principles are not a show, yeah, show, yeah
Your hands will never touch my soul, yeah, ouh da

Don't call yourselves poets
If you don't respect the lyrics
If you only read and see boobs
If your recipe is fun, posse and gutter
And alliterating the alliteration until it's obsolete
I don't want to see them jump
Or nod their heads
I prefer to think they think
Also that they sometimes read
Many don't believe
But ask Aerostame
How it feels to be booed after the ovation
I didn't come to tell you what to think
I don't promote alcohol or drugs
I just invite you to reflect
Even if I don't agree, I am willing to respect
Because I write what my soul dictates
I don't write about partying!
I don't promote that rap
Is the excuse, it's an end
It's not a means because of a filthy bling bling medium
Nothing akin to my endless ingenuity
Of dudes who try to ruin rap
With their lousy flow
I imagine being Tin Tin, investigating every corner
With Tintin's spark and the passion that is in Marin
A feast of rhymes locked up in my dressing room
I don't want to see you cat on the zinc roof
My message is reflection, I
Don't have a plan
But to enjoy the wonders that surround us
Within the underground I am underground
It doesn't matter if they question me
I'm chill
Because I know your idol is my fan

Yo, yo, yo I didn't come for you to have a good time
I came for my poetry to reach many more people
My principles are not a show, yeah, show, yeah
Your hands will never touch my soul, yeah, ouh da
I didn't come for us to toast with Heineken
I came for my poetry to reach many more people
My principles are not a show, yeah, show, yeah
Your hands will never touch my soul, yeah, ouh da

Chilean rap has grown a lot in skills and talent
But, almost nothing in thought
I don't buy from these party MC's
Of collecting groupies
And sampling left and right
The minimum dude, before singing the bass
Is that you know something about the artist you're stealing from
For you, sampling is the only way to compose
For me, it's about paying tribute to those who made their music a pleasure
Raise your hands!
Raise your hands!
Did you believe me, Americo, dude?
No, there is no hand with my people
Groups of dudes on stage
Even at home they walk in a group, and me?
I am a lone wolf

Yo, yo, yo I didn't come for you to have a good time
I came for my poetry to reach many more people
My principles are not a show, yeah, show, yeah
Your hands will never touch my soul, yeah, ouh da
I didn't come for us to toast with Heineken
I came for my poetry to reach many more people
My principles are not a show, yeah, show, yeah
Your hands will never touch my soul, yeah, ouh da