Текст и перевод песни El Chojin - De Que Van

De Que Van

Y todos quieren sacara discos,
Y todos creen que seran ricos,
Y todos quieren ser como en los videos,
He movido el arbol y no caen los euros,
Hemos confundido el Rap con Por hech por negros,
Bikinis, cochazos, botellas de champan, no,
Es mas penosa aun la copia que la version orginal,
Aqui ni hay Nellys bobos ni KRS Ones,
Solo existe un norte,
Yo solo sigo a la estrella polar,
Me he comido un millon de criticas,
Me he preguntado muchas veces que es lo que pretendian,
A no me tienta ni Eva bobos,¿de que van?,
Juegan con el fuego y se queman,
No hay carnet de raper,
Ni ropas, ni poses, ni clases,
El Rap no esta en las calles,
Ni en parques ni en tatuajes,
Me da igual que hagas maquetas,
Te hinches a petas,
Y hables de lo underground en tus letras,
Yo llevaba chandal de bandas,
Cuadno tu jugabas con las temperas,
Que decis que el Hip Hop esta hecho una mierda,
Es culpa vuestra ...
Lo unico que funciona en vuestra cabeza es la lengua,
Bla, bla, bla, bla ...

Los fanzines son una mierda,
Las revistas son una mierda,
El rimadero es una mierda,
Los discos son una mierda,
Los Mc′s son una mierda,
Los conciertso son una mierda,
Seguid ahi sin hacer nada bobitos,
Todos esos de los que hablais mierda,
Estan haciendo algo por esta movida,
¿Y vosotros? Va! ...

Where Are They From

And you all want to release records,
And you all think you will be rich,
And you all want to be like in the videos,
I've shaken the tree, and the euros don't fall,
We've confused Rap with Pretend It's by Blacks,
Bikinis, flashy cars, bottles of champagne, no,
The copy is even more pitiful than the original version,
Here there are no silly Nellys or KRS Ones,
There's only one north,
I only follow the North Star,
I've swallowed a million criticisms,
I've asked myself many times what they intended,
Eva doesn't tempt me, honey, where are they from?,
They play with fire and get burned,
There's no rapper card,
No clothes, no poses, no classes,
Rap is not on the streets,
Nor in parks or in tattoos,
I don't care if you make demos,
You get high on dope,
And talk about the underground in your lyrics,
I wore band warm-ups,
When you played with finger paints,
You say Hip Hop is a piece of crap,
It's your fault ...
The only thing that works in your head is your tongue,
Blah, blah, blah, blah ...

Fanzines are crap,
Magazines are crap,
Rhymers are crap,
Records are crap,
MCs are crap,
Concerts are crap,
Keep right there not doing anything, little boobies,
All those you talk crap about,
Are doing something for this movement,
And you? Come on! ...