Текст и перевод песни High 5 feat. Hilj$on Mandela - Žene Gazele

Žene Gazele

Žene gazele kmice nema za majkom
Že žene ga zele kmica nestala ko fantom
Miješamo koktele, kmice nema za šankom
Rolamo vuvuzele al kmice nema za blantom
Žene gazele hodaju elegantno
Žene gazele ne smiju se iritantno
Smiju se glasno kad baciš ko monty python
Zbog njih si najveća manga ko Django
Il fajter ko Jean Claude s nogu bar pol ak ne na eks
Žene gazele bi provod pa ćeš odriješit kes
Na štangi pumpaš dvajst tris pa sad ćeš pedes
Žene gazele bi plesale pa ćeš bacit fleks
Pa ćeš bacit tekst ako ga traži
Vadiš ga instant u eteru i na gaži
Cepaš banku za gazelu nimfomanku
Idemo u Bankok idemo na Šri lanku

Riđi je gengsta, ima dve pljuce
Dve pljuce više od Vuce
Kujica tucet, ima i puce
Pritom ne mislim na gumbe i cucke
Mislim samo na pare i žene
Žene me pare, za pare me žene
Neki likovi prave se žene
Neki likovi prave su žene
Brda žena, žene su stijene
Crna žena, žene su sjene
Krda žena, žene gazele
Grda žena, e jebiga frende
Žene su skupa na wcu kad su vani
Žene gazele idu skupa po Savani
Skupe marke, skupi dućani
Kada se napiju počnu galamit
Skupa u klubu, plešu u krugu
Častiš jednu, moraš i drugu
Platiš cugu, platiš im rundu
Jackie-cola za frendicu ružnu
Ako piju rakiju, piju medice
Ili neke borovnice, jebene višnje
Al nekad su smješne, zabavne, friške
Lijepo se smiju i kosa im miriše
I zele su Radeta, zele su mene
Snajpera isto, i tebe su, Svene
A di je žuga, žene ga zele
Vani je džungla, žene gazele

Ref (Hiljson Mandela)
Gazela pun je grad
Bolje lovi dok si mlad
Bolje lovi jos si mlad

žena sa velom me zela u brak
Banda još odlazi duvat u mrak
Doobie me pitao koj' ti je vrag
Opet si vice, a bio prvak
Vrijeme ih miluje ko boce blatine
žene iz grada i one iz slatine
Nekad su džabe, a nekad su plative
Rade ih mazi ko listove sative
Ostaju samo žene na slikama
Neke na štiklama ili u 'tikama
U vrućim hlačama i natikačama
Vodimo ljubav i nakon povraćanja
Vodimo ratove kao favele
Rade je lav, al žene gazene
Jebiga frende žene gazele
žene gazele kad žene ga žele

Gazelle Women

Girls, gazelles, no clothes for mom
Girls, they drive gazelles, the warrior vanished like a phantom
We mix cocktails, no girls behind the bar
We roll vuvuzelas, but no girls for the blunt
The gazelle girls walk elegantly
The gazelle girls should not laugh irritably
They laugh out loud when you throw like Monty Python
Because of them, you're the biggest manga like Django
Or a fighter like Jean Claude with a leg at least half an ax
Gazelle girls would hang out, so you'll open your wallet
On the bar, you pump twenty-three, and now there are fifty
Gazelle girls would dance, so you'll throw flexes
Then you'll throw text if it asks for it
You get it instantly in the ether and on the gas
You break the bank for a nymphomaniac gazelle
We go to Bangkok, we go to Sri Lanka

Riđi is a gangster, got two lungs
Two lungs more than Vuce
A dozen bitches, got fleas too
I don't mean the buttons and tits
I'm just thinking about money and women
Women rob me, women rob me for money
Some dudes pretend to be women
Some dudes pretend to be women
Mountains of women, women are rocks
Black woman, women are shadows
Herds of women, women are gazelles
Ugly woman, damn it, friend
Women are expensive in the toilet when they are outside
Gazelle girls go together in the Savannah
Expensive brands, expensive shops
When they get drunk, they start to make noise
Expensive in the club, dancing in a circle
You treat one, you have to treat the other
You pay for the chug, you pay for their round
Jackie-cola for an ugly girlfriend
If they drink brandy, they drink Medice
Or, some blueberries, whatever cherries
But sometimes they are funny, fun, fresh
They laugh beautifully and their hair smells good
And they want Radeta, they want me
Snajpera too, Sven, they want you
And where is the party, the women want it
Outside is the jungle, the women are gazelles

Ref (Hiljson Mandela)
The city is full of gazelles
Better catch while you are young
Better catch while you are young

A woman with a veil took me in marriage
The gang still goes out to smoke in the dark
Doobie asked me who the hell are you
Again, you are a vice, and you were a champion
Time caresses them like mud bottles
Women from the city and from the slaty
Sometimes they are free, and sometimes they are paid
Rade uses them gently like leaves of sative
Only women remain in the pictures
Some in stilettos or in 'tic
In hot pants and flip-flops
We make love even after puking
We wage wars like favelas
Rade is a lion, but women are trampled
Damn, friend, women gazelles
Women gazelles when women want them