Текст и перевод песни Gran Rah - Warning

Warning

Yo ¿Qué pasa Veiderr?
¿Qué pasa Gran Rah?
Sí, esto es Warning, así va
No pueden, no saben, no deben, no valen
Que quieren a buenos raperos, oye, dejen a los que saben yo

Hey-Hey, diles que vengan por mi
Hey-Hey, tengo más flow que money
Hey-Hey, tu grupo haciendo el Tony
Warning MC, esto es fuck the police
Hey-Hey, diles que vengan por mi
Hey-Hey, tengo más flow que money
Hey-Hey, tu grupo haciendo el Tony
Warning MC, esto es fuck the police

Fuck, fuck you rapper too
Quieres cash, money, fumar camel Te-
Ner los pantalones más anchos que MC Hammer
Voy de oreja en oreja dejando el polen-acaso no ven
Hago rap para alivianar la vida, brother
Fomes son con sus flow simplones lost
De estos dos MC son mucho mejores yo

Tengo hectáreas de jardines en mi orgullo porque
To's esos amigos tuyos no paran ni dejan de lanzarme flores
No, señores, no quiero fama (no, no)
Quiero ser el mejor en la rap rama. No more drama
Es al son del rap frente al Mic Sansón
Saca el skill donde dejo el nivel en llama (Warning)

Yo, ya tú sabe'
Esto MC, no podrás pasar por aquí
No, ya tú sabe'
Donde está Veiderr, dícelo

Warning, peligo, y cuida'o con este par de MC
Pásame el papel y el lápiz de tu escrito mi elixir
Empuño el MIC, alguna vez lo vi tirao en la street
Aprendí que un infeliz se siente bien en su forma de vestir
Explícito lenguaje mueve el engranaje
Tus rimas son por canje anarquista vesti'o de ángel

Se me funde la falange cuando entono el canto en serio
Tú no tení remedio, te vai zumba'o pal cementerio
No como vivo, si no, como lo que veo
Muchos son la moda blinblineo, cualquier cosa al peo
Movimiento de Morfeo con la táctica espectacular
Si ven a estos dos aprieten sus mandíbula

Hey-Hey, diles que vengan por mi
Hey-Hey, tengo más flow que money
Hey-Hey, tu grupo haciendo el Tony
Warning MC, esto es fuck the police
Hey-Hey, diles que vengan por mi
Hey-Hey, tengo más flow que money
Hey-Hey, tu grupo haciendo el Tony
Warning MC, esto es fuck the police

Voy a entrar con pateando puertas pa' dejar con boca abierta
Con las pistas este monstruo de la tumba se despierta
Manifiesto una supuesta ingesta alcoholica en tu fiesta
Las letras se desnudas en donde más uno le aprieta
Hinchado como aprieta con peinado a lo Capitan Planeta
Pozando pa' la foto, y se te enganchó la jeta

Con nosotros no te metas, estamos chatos de caretas
De tus largas camisetas y de tus 'tillas proxenetas
Cada cosa en su sitio, vay a terminar tira'o en el ripio
A mi persona flipflop y te caíste al precipicio
No me enjuicies que te enjuicio, así es como lo grafico
Con los cabros allá en el barrio te ponemos el crucifijo

(Warning) Como aquí usted aprendiz tenga un buen pasar
No pueden pasar nuestras fronteras, yo
The real shit, hermano. Dícelo Gran Rah
Hey yo

Gran Rah en volumen dos, mirá solo es un número
Versus energúmenos, fecundando úteros
Palmas y panderos para estos tristes raperos
Para'os en paradero esperando que hayan un bus que los lleve directo al cielo
Quiero y puedo, si mis rimas se disparan del suelo
Hasta luego, voy, pecas por, malo soy, pa los ra-Peros que dicen ser buenos

Pero yo tranquilo y sereno tomo el micro y les explico
Quién es el verdadero. Jocker, Posser, Jefe, domina el macro
Si no ha perfuma'o un pito respira, master de que flu-
Juntándome con esto' cabro'
El Veiderr, el Jona, El Diego, el Mata y el Bster
Ya sabes de quienes hablo

Hey-Hey, diles que vengan por mi
Hey-Hey, tengo más flow que money
Hey-Hey, tu grupo haciendo el Tony
Warning MC, esto es fuck the police
(Warning)
(Warning)
(Warning)
(Warning)

Warning

Yo, what's up, Veiderr?
What's up, Gran Rah?
Yes, this is Warning, here we go.
They can't, they don't know, they shouldn't, they're not worth it.
They want good rappers, hey, leave it to those who know, I…

Hey-Hey, tell them to come get me.
Hey-Hey, I got more flow than money.
Hey-Hey, your group is doing the Tony.
Warning MC, this is fuck the police.
Hey-Hey, tell them to come get me.
Hey-Hey, I got more flow than money.
Hey-Hey, your group is doing the Tony.
Warning MC, this is fuck the police.

Fuck, fuck you rapper too.
You want cash, money, smoke Camel, ha-
ve pants wider than MC Hammer.
I go from ear to ear leaving the pollen—can't they see?
I rap to ease life, brother.
Fools they are, with their simple flows, lost.
These two MCs are much better, I...

I have acres of gardens in my pride because
All those friends of yours don't stop throwing flowers at me.
No, gentlemen, I don't want fame (no, no).
I want to be the best in the rap branch. No more drama.
It's to the sound of rap, in front of the mic, Samson.
Take out the skill, where I leave the level in flames (Warning).

Yo, you know.
This MC, you won't be able to get through here.
No, you know.
Where's Veiderr, tell him.

Warning, danger, and watch out for this pair of MCs.
Pass me the paper and pencil of your writing, my elixir.
I hold the MIC, I once saw it thrown on the street.
I learned that a miserable person feels good in the way they dress.
Explicit language moves the gear.
Your rhymes are for an anarchist dressed as an angel.

My phalanx melts when I seriously intone the chant.
You had no remedy, you're going to the cemetery dancing.
I don't eat to live, but rather what I see.
Many are the blinkered fashion, anything goes.
Morpheus' movement with spectacular tactics.
If you see these two, clench your jaw.

Hey-Hey, tell them to come get me.
Hey-Hey, I got more flow than money.
Hey-Hey, your group is doing the Tony.
Warning MC, this is fuck the police.
Hey-Hey, tell them to come get me.
Hey-Hey, I got more flow than money.
Hey-Hey, your group is doing the Tony.
Warning MC, this is fuck the police.

I'm going to kick the doors down to leave you speechless.
With the tracks, this monster from the grave awakens.
I manifest an alleged alcoholic intake at your party.
The lyrics are stripped bare where they are squeezed the most.
Swollen, like Captain Planet, with a hairstyle to match.
Posing for the photo, and your face got stuck.

Don't mess with us, we're sick of masks.
Of your long shirts and your pimping 'tillas.
Everything in its place, you're going to end up thrown in the gutter.
Flip-flop to my person and you fell into the abyss.
Don't judge me, I'll judge you, that's how I graph it.
With the guys back in the hood we'll put the crucifix on you.

(Warning) As here you apprentice have a good time.
They can't cross our borders, I...
The real shit, brother. Tell them, Gran Rah.
Hey, yo.

Gran Rah in volume two, look, it's just a number.
Versus bullies, fecundating wombs.
Applause and tambourines for these sad rappers.
Standing at the bus stop hoping there's a bus to take them straight to heaven.
I want and I can, if my rhymes shoot off the ground.
So long, I'm going, you sin by, I'm bad, for ra-ppers who claim to be good.

But I, calm and serene, take the mic and explain to them
Who the real one is. Jocker, Posser, Chief, dominates the macro.
If he hasn't smelled a pussy, he's breathing, master of that flo-
getting together with these guys.
Veiderr, Jona, Diego, Mata, and Bster.
You know who I'm talking about.

Hey-Hey, tell them to come get me.
Hey-Hey, I got more flow than money.
Hey-Hey, your group is doing the Tony.
Warning MC, this is fuck the police.
(Warning)
(Warning)
(Warning)
(Warning)