Текст и перевод песни GabrielRodriguezEMC - Verdades Ficticias

Verdades Ficticias

Ya me so' embelado que me tomé un café y 'toy medio hyper
Suavecito, ¿ok?
Viso Rivera, je

Apaguen la luz, que vengo alumbrarlos como de costumbre
Me incumbe salir de mi cumbre para que este mundo no se me derrumbe
La gente se aturbe, no se me angustien, no se me turben
El género a pie, estos taxis son lentos, tranquilo' que aquí llego Yubel, ah

Wiso estoy harto de que estos raperos digan que en la calle redactan
Dicen que matan, que to' tienen AK y con esas falacias se jactan (Fake)
La calle se atrae lo que ellos redactan y un ochenta por ciento que falta
El sonido en la calle es el llanto de madres cuando algún hijo le matan

Cuando a un niño le llevan el padre y nunca se lo dan de alta
A familias gigantes, la droga aplasta y de grande' pasan a compacta
Que lleguen mis cartas diciendo que deben al pai y en alcohol to' lo gasta
Llega a su casa a las tantas, y a su esposa borracho maltrata

No me hable' de calle, si a leguas se nota que tu pupila sigue intacta
De lo que redactan, no tiene' el acta, si es falso después me contacta (Wooh)
Tu letra no es autodidacta, por eso pa' mí es putrefacta
Dicen "la calle me quema" y viven más fríos que Alaska

Algún día verán que no eres calle na' y la gente estará estupefacta (What?)
Siente' un poco 'e calor y se van de rodillas y de to' se retractan
Y la fácil, la linda, mencionen algo positivo que brindan
Cualquiera promueve violencia cuando los carros que poseen los blindan

Mentira, mentira, mentira, mentira, mentira, mentira y mentira
Eso es lo que hacen, repiten mentira' en todos los temas que tiran
Tony Montana son todo' y todo' buscando la misma Elvira
Promueven el sexo y después se preguntan si algún día lo' muerde el sida

Promueven la muerte y después hacen temas si un pana se queda sin vida
Promueven los cuernos y después se cuestionan si un pana viene y se les vira
Es mejor que tus palabras midas, porque to' lo que digas y tiras
Tarde o temprano, por más que lo esquivas, algún día te vira

Otra esposa más que queda viuda, su cuenta de chavos e' aguda
Los nenes sin papi, y el papi nuevo no ayuda (Ah)
Les llena de marcas el cuerpo y la mente y su inocencia desnuda
Perdón si te ofendo, pero es que las verdades las digo crudas (Yes, sir)

Es que no puede ser que esto siga igual
El sello le cae igual a cada cual (Wooh)
Si quieres ser sal, del salero sal
Pa'l mundo cambiar hay que confrontar

Verdades ficticias, tú quieres ver calle, mira las noticias
La Biblia lo avisa, date deprisa porque es la primicia (Yeh)
Tu trap de mentira no ayuda a la muerte y deuda al pueblo asfixia
Le tiran a los gobernantes diciendo que mienten y ellos son iguales, no sé por qué enjuician (Wooh)

Venden su letra ficticia, la fama y los chavos envician (Ah)
Sienten orgullo si notan que quien les tiró algun día demuestra codicia
Y los medios, eso es lo que auspician, profetas de la inmundicia
En la vocaliza se inicia, el fin el reloj acaricia, Cristo viene, qué delicia (Amén)
Cristianos sólo con milicia, porque estar sin Cristo no me beneficia (Ah)

Panda, panda, a los charros le dan propaganda
Los cementerios se agrandan y poco' los corazones que se ablandan (Yeh)
Verdad o mentira, no ambas, tus verdades me caminan zamba
Aquí somos o blancos o negros, no somos doble tono como panda (Yeh)

Síganla corriendo, papi (Jaja)
Alright
Escuché a alguien diciendo que si el trap es un movimiento
Pa' hablar de la calle, lo que pasa en la calle y que la calle es matar, y todo eso
Papi, eso es una calle ficticia
Son verdades a media', ¿entiende'?

No hables de conocimiento si, en realidad, estás buscando excusas
Pa' tirar la basura que todo' están tirando
Todo' dicen que tiran música distinta
Otro punto de vista de la calle y todo' tiran lo mismo

¿Tú quiere' hablar calle verídica, papi?
No es solamente matar, no es solamente contarme
De con cuántas, mujere' has estado, o que tú estás fumando

Háblame de esas madres que sufren, to' lo' día'
Porque el hijo no ha vuelto
Háblame de esos padres que se van y dejan a los nenes solo'
Hábame de los jóvene' como nosotro' que se han vuelto loco'
Que se quedan pedago' en los viajes por la droga
O que los han matado a temprana edad, sin tan siquiera vivir, brother

Esa es la calle real, lo que está sufriendo Puerto Rico y el mundo entero
Hablemos cosas con sentido, ¿está bien?
Pero na', Wizo, aquí seguimo'
Cuestión de innovar lo que ya está crea'o

They don't want me to make real trap, bro'
So, guess what? Imma do the greatest trap eva'
The realest trap, eva'
EMC, baby, I feel like a little bit bilingual, bro'
Gabriel Rodriguez

El gozo del Señor es mi fortaleza, papi
But you know we're getting tired of this
You're rapping the same weak game, bro'
It's all the same, no difference

Fictitious Truths

I'm already so wired, I had a coffee and I'm a little hyper
Smoothly, ok?
Viso Rivera, heh

Turn off the light, I'm here to illuminate you as usual
It is my responsibility to come down from my peak so this world doesn't crumble on me
People get flustered, don't worry, don't get flustered
The genre on foot, these taxis are slow, relax, Yubel is arriving, ah

You know I'm tired of these rappers saying they write on the streets
They say they kill, that they all have AKs, and they boast with these fallacies (Fake)
The street attracts what they write and eighty percent of it is missing
The sound on the street is the cry of mothers when their sons are killed

When a child is taken from his father and never returned
Giant families, drugs crush, and from big they become compact
They receive letters saying they owe the country and they spend everything on alcohol
He arrives home late, and mistreats his wife, drunk

Don't talk to me about the streets if it's obvious that your pupil remains intact
Of what you write, you don't have the record, if it's false, contact me later (Wooh)
Your lyrics are not self-taught, that's why it's putrid to me
They say "the streets burn me" and live colder than Alaska

One day you'll see that you're not street at all and people will be stunned (What?)
They feel a little heat and go to their knees and retract everything
And the easy, the beautiful, mention something positive they offer
Whoever promotes violence when the cars they own blind them

Lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie and lie
That's what they do, repeat lies in every song they drop
Everyone’s Tony Montana, and everyone is looking for the same Elvira
They promote sex and then wonder if they'll ever be bitten by AIDS

They promote death and then they make songs if a friend loses his life
They promote cheating and then question if a friend comes and turns on them
You better measure your words, because everything you say and throw
Sooner or later, no matter how much you avoid it, one day it will turn on you

Another wife left a widow, her money account is sharp
The kids without a dad, and the new dad doesn't help (Ah)
He fills their bodies and minds with marks and their innocence is naked
Sorry if I offend you, but I tell the truth raw (Yes, sir)

It can't be that this continues the same
The stamp falls equally to each one (Wooh)
If you want to be salt, get out of the salt shaker
To change the world we have to confront

Fictitious truths, you want to see the streets, watch the news
The Bible warns, hurry because it's the scoop (Yeh)
Your lying trap doesn't help death and debt suffocate the people
They throw it at the rulers saying they lie and they are the same, I don't know why they judge (Wooh)

They sell their fictional lyrics, fame and money are addictive (Ah)
They feel proud if they notice that whoever threw it at them one day shows greed
And the media, that's what they sponsor, prophets of filth
In vocalization it begins, the end the clock caresses, Christ is coming, what a delight (Amen)
Christians only with militia, because being without Christ does not benefit me (Ah)

Panda, panda, they give propaganda to the charros
Cemeteries are getting bigger and few hearts soften (Yeh)
Truth or lie, not both, your truths walk me zamba
Here we are either black or white, we are not two-tone like panda (Yeh)

Keep running it, daddy (Haha)
Alright
I heard someone saying if trap is a movement
To talk about the street, what happens on the street and that the street is killing, and all that
Daddy, that's a fictional street
They are half-truths, you understand?

Don't talk about knowledge if you're actually looking for excuses
To throw away the garbage that everyone is throwing away
Everyone says they play different music
Another point of view of the street and everyone throws the same thing

You wanna talk real street, daddy?
It's not just killing, it's not just telling me
How many women you've been with, or that you're smoking

Tell me about those mothers who suffer every day
Because the son hasn't returned
Tell me about those parents who leave and leave the children alone
Talk to me about young people like us who have gone crazy
Who are left as teachers on drug trips
Or that they were killed at an early age, without even living, brother

That's the real street, what Puerto Rico and the whole world is suffering
Let's talk meaningful things, okay?
But nah, Wizo, here we go
A matter of innovating what is already created

They don't want me to make real trap, bro'
So, guess what? Imma do the greatest trap eva'
The realest trap, eva'
EMC, baby, I feel like a little bit bilingual, bro'
Gabriel Rodriguez

The joy of the Lord is my strength, daddy
But you know we're getting tired of this
You're rapping the same weak game, bro'
It's all the same, no difference