Текст и перевод песни Molotov - Más Vale Cholo (Desde El Palacio De Los Deportes)

Más Vale Cholo (Desde El Palacio De Los Deportes)

Pa-pa-paseaba en la troca con quema cocos
Parqueamos la wawa y le tocamos al loco
Que siempre jala con sus carnales
Se jala temprano para echar desmadre
Salió de su casa, saco de lana
Zapato blanco y pantalón de pana
Así yo me visto si se me da la gana
Mejor no te metas donde nadie te llama
Nos fuimos temprano hacia el reventón (Uh)
Y nos topamos a mi hermano Ramón
Que me invitaba de su cerveza
Yo le comentaba: ¡man, qué buena está la tu hermana!
Ahí conocimos unas muchachas
Que no estaban buenas ni tampoco bien borrachas
Y las mandamos a hacer la fila
Para que nos sirvieran varios tequilas
The party was plenty full of narcos
Was plenty full of grass shit
And plenty full of guarros
Todos en coches brindados
To-to-to (Todos tomados y todos bien armados)
Loco bebió hasta perder el control
Se puso a rapear como el pendejo de Caló
Y nos gritaron: "malditos pochos"
Nos discriminaron por venir en bochos
Le dije: "men, ya estás muy pasado"
Más vale cholo que mal acompañado
No se pelien men, no se pelien
Para poder peliarse hay que saber con quién, men
No se pelien men, no se pelien
Para poder peliarse hay que saber con quién, men
Cuando quieran, wey
Ah, perdón, cuando quieran
La arrabalera estaba hasta el recubeque
Quería pagarle a la mafia con un cheque
Nos presumían de sus ropitas
Mientras que el loco les bajaba a sus chiquitas
Rolando harinazos me dijo algún idiota
Que se refería a mi amigo el Trota
El loco le dijo: "hey, ten cuidado con Edmundo
You better keep your mouth shut
O mato a todo el mundo"
Se armaron los chingazos y los trancazos
Pow, pow, qué buenos catorrazos
Y les gritaba a todos pecho tierra
Mientras les comentaba: "qué buena está la fiesta"
Tito me dijo: "ese güero mariquete
Me estaba amenazando con su 357"
Un enano bigotón, hijo de la chingada
Me estaba amenazando con lanzarme su granada
Llegó el momento de hacer la retirada
Boy, boy, boy, esta puerta está cerrada
Tuvimos que escapar por la puerta principal
Le dije a mi chofer que me dejara manejar
Me dijo: "man ya estás muy a fuego"
Le dije: "no problemo, este bocho está tocado"
No se balien men, no se balien
Para poder baliarse hay que saber con quién, men
No se balien men, no se balien
Para poder baliarse hay que saber con quién, men
No se balien men, no se balien
Para poder baliarse hay que saber con quién, men
No se balien men, no se balien
Para poder baliarse hay que saber con quién, men
Más vale cholo (Que mal acompañado)
What's that?, salud
Se me hace que me voy a chingar un cigarrito
Aunque ustedes no pueden
Pinche, mayeleito, bótame un chicho
Ahí les va

Better a Cholo (From the Sports Palace)

Cruising in the truck with the sunroof open, babe
We parked the ride and hit up my crazy friend
The one who always hangs with his homies
Gets up early to raise some hell
Left his house, pockets full of cash
White shoes and corduroy pants
That's how I dress if I feel like it, girl
Better not stick your nose where it doesn't belong
We went early to the party (Uh)
And bumped into my brother Ramón
He offered me some of his beer
I told him, "man, your sister is looking fine!"
We met some girls there
Who weren't hot or even that drunk
So we sent them to wait in line
To get us a few tequilas
The party was plenty full of narcos
Was plenty full of weed, girl
And plenty full of wannabe gangsters
All in borrowed cars
To-to-to (Everyone drunk and well-armed)
My friend drank till he lost control
Started rapping like that idiot from Caló
And they yelled at us, "damn pochos"
Discriminated against us for coming in Beetles
I said, "man, you're way too gone"
Better a cholo than in bad company, sweetheart
Don't fight, man, don't fight
To fight, you gotta know who you're messing with, man
Don't fight, man, don't fight
To fight, you gotta know who you're messing with, man
Whenever you want, dude
Ah, sorry, whenever you're ready
The gold digger was wasted
Trying to pay the mafia with a check
They were showing off their clothes, babe
While my friend was hitting on their girls
Some idiot said, snorting lines
He was talking about my friend Trota
My friend told him, "hey, be careful with Edmundo
You better keep your mouth shut
Or I'll kill everyone"
The punches and kicks started flying
Pow, pow, what good punches
And I yelled at everyone to hit the floor
While telling them, "this party is great"
Tito told me, "that faggot white boy
Was threatening me with his 357"
A short, mustached son of a bitch
Was threatening to throw his grenade at me
It was time to make our escape
Boy, boy, boy, this door is locked
We had to escape through the main entrance
I told my driver to let me drive
He said, "man, you're too wasted"
I said, "no problem, this Beetle is souped-up"
Don't shoot, man, don't shoot
To shoot, you gotta know who you're messing with, man
Don't shoot, man, don't shoot
To shoot, you gotta know who you're messing with, man
Don't shoot, man, don't shoot
To shoot, you gotta know who you're messing with, man
Don't shoot, man, don't shoot
To shoot, you gotta know who you're messing with, man
Better a cholo (Than in bad company)
What's that?, cheers
I think I'm gonna smoke a cigarette
Even though you guys can't
Damn lightweight, throw me a beer
Here you go