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Din Mahala la Palat
From the Hood to the Palace
DO
RE
MI
FA,
note
de
subsol,
cioaca
DO
RE
MI
FA,
notes
from
the
underground,
crow
Dar
tu
n-ai
gust,
si
pasarea
e
dulceaga
But
you
have
no
taste,
and
the
bird
is
sweet
Cu
mare
bust
din
patria
lu'
Buruchagga,
With
a
big
bust,
from
the
homeland
of
Buruchagga,
Imi
vine
sa
ma
bat
pe
mine
insumi,
ba,
adu
nunchaku,
huh,
I
feel
like
beating
myself
up,
man,
bring
the
nunchaku,
huh,
Cand
tac
inseamna
ca
nu
ma
bag
in
seama,
When
I'm
silent
it
means
I'm
not
paying
attention,
Rapul
vostru
ciorba
de
legume
nu
ma
bag
in
zeama,
Your
rap,
a
vegetable
soup,
I'm
not
dipping
in,
Va
ganditi
sa-mi
ciorditi
dume,
poate
nu
bag
de
seama,
You're
thinking
of
stealing
my
rhymes,
maybe
I
won't
notice,
Luati,
mai
fac
inca
pe-atatea
cand
mc
diseara,
PSSST!!!
Take
it,
I'll
make
even
more
when
I
MC
tonight,
PSSST!!!
Killa
tine
minte
cum
e
omu-i
si
repul,
Killa
remembers
what
man
and
repulsion
are
like,
Stralucesc
impreuna
precum
cromul
si
becul,
We
shine
together
like
chrome
and
a
light
bulb,
Sau
se
golesc
impreuna
cu
romul
si
Keg-ul,
Or
we
empty
together
with
rum
and
a
keg,
Vocatia
n-are
nevoie
de
reguli,
adevar,
Vocation
doesn't
need
rules,
it's
true,
Tine
fratii
aproape,
si
din
ce-ai
imparte,
Keep
your
brothers
close,
and
from
what
you
have,
share,
Ia
sticla
asta
frate,
io
beau
ceai
la
party,
Take
this
bottle,
brother,
I'm
drinking
tea
at
the
party,
Ca
tot
ce
dai
se-ntoarce,
sunt
Jedi
pe
pace,
Because
everything
you
give
comes
back,
I'm
a
Jedi
on
peace,
Mare
forta
dupa
ce
fac
torta
dintr
un
pai
cu
cancer...
Great
strength
after
I
make
a
torch
out
of
a
cancer
stick...
Din
mahala
la
palat,
From
the
hood
to
the
palace,
De
la
pijama
la
halat,
From
pajamas
to
a
robe,
Mai
sare
cate-un
zero,
l-am
barat,
Another
zero
jumps,
I
crossed
it
out,
Ma
las
cand
mi-aduce
curierul
cerul
ambalat.
I'll
quit
when
the
courier
brings
me
the
sky
wrapped
up.
Oh
mami
pustiu'
se
ridica
ca
din
morti
mami,
Oh
baby,
the
wasteland
rises
like
the
dead,
baby,
Scoala
nu-i
da
scoala
cum
ii
da
strada
mami,
School
doesn't
teach
her
like
the
streets
do,
baby,
Mutra
nu
i-o
coace
varsta
ci
viata
mami
Her
face
isn't
baked
by
age
but
by
life,
baby
Ani
de
zile
dupa
pustiu'
musca
din
ei
mami,
Years
after
the
wasteland
bites
into
them,
baby,
Pustiu'
ala
care
a
strigat
me
garda
la
concert
pe
masa,
That
kid
who
yelled
"me
garda"
at
the
concert
on
the
table,
Sprijinit
de
2 gabori
spart
cu
banii
in
plasa,
Supported
by
2 cops,
smashed
with
money
in
the
bag,
Bagabont
cu
coaie
grase,
Cioceanu
Ploiesti,
Vagabond
with
big
balls,
Cioceanu
Ploiesti,
Binecuvantat
alaturi
de
legende
in
Bucuresti,
Blessed
alongside
legends
in
Bucharest,
Cu
$atra
B.
E.
N.
Z
familia
n-a
fost
vorba
de
Mercedes,
With
$atra
B.
E.
N.
Z
family,
it
wasn't
about
Mercedes,
Nu-i
vorba
de
copii
de
bani
gata
asta
e
Progres!
It's
not
about
rich
kids,
this
is
Progress!
Din
mahala
la
palat,
From
the
hood
to
the
palace,
De
la
carpati
la
kalash,
From
the
Carpathians
to
the
Kalash,
De
la
cacat
la
cacat,
From
shit
to
shit,
De
la
furat
la
cantat,
From
stealing
to
singing,
Din
mahala
la
palat,
From
the
hood
to
the
palace,
Din
mahala
m-au
fatat!
The
hood
gave
birth
to
me!
O
Doamne
mama
imi
zice
ca
sunt
lord
tata,
Oh
Lord,
mama
tells
me
I'm
a
lord,
dad,
Oi
fi
eu
fin
dar
fac
urat
si
las
sange
pe
strada,
I
may
be
fine
but
I
do
ugly
things
and
leave
blood
on
the
street,
Astia
ma
provoaca
ma
instiga
ma
irita,
These
guys
provoke
me,
instigate
me,
irritate
me,
Si
cand
ii
prind
pe
strada
Bap!
Bap!
fac
risipa,
And
when
I
catch
them
on
the
street
Bap!
Bap!
I
waste,
Nu
ma
doare
daca
ii
bag
direct
in
reanimare,
I
don't
care
if
I
put
them
straight
into
resuscitation,
Dar
parca
simt
pe
fata
lacrima
unei
mame,
But
I
feel
the
tear
of
a
mother
on
my
face,
Multi
ignoranti
pustani
cu
glasu'
mare,
Many
ignorant
kids
with
a
loud
voice,
Inconstienti
pica
in
groapa
sau
in
spitale,
Unconscious,
they
fall
into
the
pit
or
hospitals,
Saracia
face
din
om
o
fiara,
Poverty
makes
a
beast
out
of
a
man,
Sistemul
asta
pute
a
gluma
proasta
iara,
This
system
stinks
of
a
bad
joke
again,
Afiliat
cu
bagabonti
si
afaceristi
tata,
Affiliated
with
thugs
and
businessmen,
dad,
Sange
pe
camasa
dar
am
fata
imaculata
Blood
on
my
shirt
but
my
face
is
immaculate
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