Текст и перевод песни DJ Wich feat. Čistychov - Vidlák, Rap, Já (feat. Čistychov)

Vidlák, Rap, Já (feat. Čistychov)

Servus všetci moji krásni, osratí aj vážni, skutoční aj smažní, vážne piční páni, vážne pičné dámy za vaše pičné fámy vytvarované vami, lámem vaše pičné rámy.
Je veľký búm, dneska chce byť každý v repe, každý kokotko sa trepe, už neni nefér na každého brať inakší meter.
Buď si s nami, alebo proti, ja viem čo ti po hlave chodí, štím ti do boty.
Robte štít si kokoti, ste si blízky kokoti?
Môžem jebať vaše recenzie z výšky kokoti.
Robte z nás hviezdy, drístajte s cesty, no priznajte sem si,, ktorý z nás je MC, ktorý vás nešetrí, ako brat nešteglí všetky tvrdé deti, ktoré zametajú hubou smeti a štýlovo sú trápni ako rišo z žužulety, nezavolajú ma na párty, bo im štím na parkety.
Plus na ruku potítko, no nepotí sa kokotko.
Úžasný dres,, neodfotíš sa kokotko?
Dám ti do huby riť, sa mi podpíš aj popod to, tých pravých ako ty si zbieram do albumu kokotkov.
Moji bratia slovania sa bránia bez zdania, falošným sa stránia, ich tí nerania.
Ešte to len z vašej strany začne tie srania, mimo médiá a MC′s, vás nepoznám ja.
Ref: Tak kry sa vidlák, zvolil si si boj, drístaš, kydáš, smeješ?
Stoj!
Né, ty hnisáš, kýchaš, sereš hnoj, Ty sa vyznáš?
Rep já jebem tvoj.
Chceš mi vnútiť tvoj názor o repe, lebo vieš o ňom viac ako ja, vedomosti a fakty o ostatných, ktoré mi za nič nestoja.
Moj rep je moja pasáž, moja banda, moje mesto, ja, to ostatné rozpoznávam rokmi cez to dejstvo a nemám z cesty pindy jak wichov parťák Indy, čuješ rozdiel, ty Sindie?
Jak whisky od mirindy.
Moj hip-hop preparát nevhodný pre bébarák nechce v sračkách prepadať, to si môžeš predsavzať.
Na časopis žiadna revolúcia, keď najväčšia výhra v ňom je distribúcia, to vždycky núti ma nakakať.
Artattack, keď to čítam, chcem plakať, kto je miss a kto MC?
Neviem rozoznať.
Mňa nebere éra zmeny repera na pózera, som funkčný veterán, čo ťa nechá bez mena.
Trápi ťa moja premena, či to, že stojí pri mne žena?
Keď výdeš zo škatuľky nastriekam ti troška semena.
Ty nejsi ten, čo jebe ma, no ja som ten, čo jebe ťa, do očí vždy zjebe ťa jak kurva čo nechce ťa.
Choď plakať na internet, keď nestačíš so mnou pretekať, no moja šťanka bude cez tvoj vankúš stále pretekať.
Môžeš mudrovať jak chceš, o čom chceš – to daj, No keď nemáš skúsenosti radšej drž piču, počúvaj a pozeraj žebrák.
Že brat?
Tvoj prestížny vzhľad môžem srať akurát.

Hick, Rap, I (feat. Čistychov)

Greetings to all my beautiful, shit-faced and serious, real and fried, serious d*ckheads, serious ladies for your serious pussy tales invented by you, I break your pussy frames.
There's a big boom, today everyone wants to be in rap, every little c*ck trembles, it's no longer fair to treat everyone with different measures.
Either you're with us or against us, I know what's going on in your head, a nail in your shoe.
Get your own shield, little dicks, are you close little dicks?
I can f*ck your reviews from up high, little dicks.
Make us stars, talk nonsense about the streets, but admit it, which one of us is the MC, who does not spare you, who does not spare any hard kid who sweeps shit with his mouth and is stylistically embarrassing as Rišo from Žužulety, they do not call me to parties because I put a nail in their parquet.
Plus sweat on your hand, but the little d*ck does not sweat.
An amazing jersey, won't you take a picture of yourself, little d*ck?
I'll put my ass in your mouth, sign your name under it, the real ones like you I collect in my d*ckhead album.
My Slavic brothers defend themselves, without being burdened by taxes, the false ones are avoided, they are not hurt by them.
It's only from you that the shit starts, MCs and outside of the media, I don't know you.
Ref: So hide hick, you've chosen your fight, you're trash-talking, shit-talking, laughing?
Stop!
No, you're festering, sneezing, shitting manure, you know what's what?
Rap I fuck yours.
You want to force your opinion about rap on me, because you know more about it than I do, knowledge and facts about others, which are worth nothing to me.
My rap is my passage, my gang, my city, me, and I recognise the rest over the years through that fact, and I don't have any off-the-street bullshit like Wich's partner Indy, do you hear the difference, you Cindy?
Like whisky from mirinda.
My hip-hop concoction is not suitable for babies, it does not want to fall into the shit, you can make that your resolution.
No revolution over a magazine when the biggest prize in it is the distribution, that always makes me shit.
Artattack, when I read it, I want to cry, who is Miss and who is MC?
I don't know the difference.
I'm not buying the rapper to poser transformation era, I'm a working veteran, who will leave you nameless.
Does my transformation bother you, or that a woman is standing by me?
When you come out of your box, I'll spray some semen on you.
You are not the one who fucks me, but I am the one who fucks you, I fuck you up in the eyes like a bitch who does not want you.
Go cry on the internet, when you can't keep up with me, but my piss will still overflow your pillow.
You can be as clever as you want, about whatever you want, but if you don't have the experience, keep your mouth shut, listen and watch, you beggar.
Brother?
I can just shit on your prestigious appearance.