Текст и перевод песни Jefe de la M - Haga lo que haga (feat. ToteKing a.k.a. Dick Jones)

Haga lo que haga (feat. ToteKing a.k.a. Dick Jones)

[Estribillo]
Hagas lo que hagas les espesa el rencor,
No giran, no clavan, plagan con su opinion,
Nos suda la polla tu pose estupido,
Los unicos numero, nos dara la razon.(x2)

[Tote King]
Te despacho, siempre impresiona mi cacho,
Me monto un Lp de macho con los reglones que tacho.
Nuestra actitud en el club nos define,
Anclaos en la barra bebiendo y charlando de cine.
Opine, afine, no subestime un destello,
No corto cuellos, cada vez que hablo cierran 3 sellos.
Chapan, ya no chulean, chorrean tinta china,
Les quito las ganas de hacer pegatinas, no se catan.
Soy ese cabron que te invita a una peli, te cuenta el final,
No veria el futbol aunque mi ciudad fichara a Zidane.
Se van, escuchan y emigran a Pakistan,
Zumba Nash Leon, Dick Jones te esperan en la tumba.

[Jefe de la M]
Resurreccion, tu puto Lp se hace eterno,
Oyendonos, somos vuestros minutos de silencio.
Me encanta analizar tus textos,
Somos 2 mc's flacos contra el viento.
Hasta la polla de tu amiguismo y de tu actitud,
Ese rollo no pega con tu rap, es una fool.
Fu, calienta el sol y tiu, te flipa esto,
Tienes mas miedo que Scooby Doo, monstruo vas to puesto.
Vemos la realidad tal como es cabron,
Ese mc no es un Kie porque ese mc es un paqueton.
Clarence, el a.k.a pa la ocasion,
Hagas lo que hagas, criticas, quereis joder mi honor.

[Estribillo]
Hagas lo que hagas les espesa el rencor,
No giran, no clavan, plagan con su opinion,
Nos suda la polla tu pose estupido,
Los unicos numero, nos dara la razon.(x2)

[Jefe de la M]
Tienes la reputacion del padre Apeles,
Quieres ganar con trampas y ves que no puedes.
[Tote: Hieren], con rumores y bulos no bastan,
Ya esta, tu track es tragico, trucos y caspa.
Soy el Mc del micro y del arpon,
El demente de enfrente que emprende batalla volvió
Sintaxis, no rompo flow, mi maxi,
Ya te aviso, quedais con Michael Knight pero se volvio a casa en taxi.
Chachi, Frank puso el beat,¿Tote te suena bien?,
[Tote: ya te digo], se vestiran de mujer como Norman Bird, ya ves
Encuentras este rap mas acido que Michael Moore,
Haga lo que hago, os aplastare a toda tu crew.

[Tote King]
Mira, quedate en tu ciudad de progres,
Con esos chuleos baratos en Andalucia sois el euro de cobre.
Tendras temblores, tratanos como a señores,
Sudores, picores, en hoteles abrimos extintores.
¿Tu que vas a hacer contra 2 miembros serios del POC?,
Cuando te apuntan, abultan, saltan, son el turbo voz.
Te insultan, inculcan, roban el espacio aereo, a Vulcan,
Buscais los sonotones,
Soñais con las night del Hozone.
Bobby Lo, Tote King, Showtime Rockets,
Es logico que este flow parta el bloque.
Mc fluidos resbalan en mi Dockers,
Subidos, perdidos de enfoque,
No rapean desinhibidos aunque se coloquen.

Do What You Do (feat. ToteKing aka Dick Jones)

[Chorus]
Whatever you do, they'll get bitter,
They don't spin, they don't nail, they plague with their opinions,
Your stupid pose makes my dick sweat,
The only numbers that will give us the reason. (x2)

[Tote King]
I'll dispatch you, my piece always impresses,
I'm putting together a macho LP with the lines I cross out.
Our attitude at the club defines us,
Anchored at the bar, drinking and talking about movies.
Speak your mind, tune in, don't underestimate a spark,
I don't cut necks, every time I speak, 3 labels close down.
They shut up, they don't bully anymore, they bleed Indian ink,
I take away their desire to make stickers, they don't get it.
I'm that asshole who invites you to a movie, tells you the ending,
I wouldn't watch football even if my city signed Zidane.
They leave, listen and emigrate to Pakistan,
Nash Leon, Dick Jones is waiting for you in the grave.

[Jefe de la M]
Resurrection, your shitty LP becomes eternal,
Listening to us, we are your minutes of silence.
I love analyzing your lyrics,
We're 2 skinny MCs against the wind.
Sick and tired of your cronyism and your attitude,
That shit doesn't fit your rap, it's a waste.
Ugh, the sun is hot, and you love this,
You're more scared than Scooby Doo, you're a monster in disguise.
We see reality for what it is, asshole,
That MC isn't a Kie because that MC is a huge loser.
Clarence, the aka for the occasion,
Whatever you do, criticism, you want to fuck with my honor.

[Chorus]
Whatever you do, they'll get bitter,
They don't spin, they don't nail, they plague with their opinions,
Your stupid pose makes my dick sweat,
The only numbers that will give us the reason. (x2)

[Jefe de la M]
You have the reputation of Father Apeles,
You want to win by cheating, and you see that you can't.
[Tote: Hurt], rumors and gossip aren't enough,
That's it, your track is tragic, tricks and dandruff.
I'm the MC of the mic and the harpoon,
The madman from across the street who's back to fight
Syntax, I don't break flow, my maxi,
I'm warning you, you'll end up with Michael Knight, but he went home in a taxi.
Chachi, Frank put the beat, Tote, does it sound good to you?
[Tote: I tell you], they'll dress like women like Norman Bird, you see
You'll find this rap more acidic than Michael Moore,
Whatever I do, I'll crush your whole crew.

[Tote King]
Look, stay in your city of progressives,
With those cheap tricks in Andalusia, you're the copper euro.
You'll have tremors, treat us like gentlemen,
Sweats, itches, we open fire extinguishers in hotels.
What are you going to do against 2 serious members of the POC?
When they point at you, they swell, they jump, they're the turbo voice.
They insult you, they instill you, they steal the airspace from Vulcan,
You're looking for the earplugs,
You dream of the nights of Hozone.
Bobby Lo, Tote King, Showtime Rockets,
It's logical that this flow breaks the block.
Fluid MCs slide on my Dockers,
High, lost in focus,
They don't rap uninhibited even if they get high.