Текст и перевод песни Mr. Yosie Locote - Son Cosas del Barrio

Son Cosas del Barrio

Vengo De La Calle Orgulloso De Mi Barrio
Eso No Lo Cambio Ni Por Todos Los Centavos
Calles Empedrads Vicios Crimenes Atracos
Hambre Y Pobresa Rifandola Para El Taco
Asi Fui Creciendo Caminando Por El Ghetto
Aprendiendo Cosas De Los Locos Callejeros
Yo No Tuve Escuela Puros Fieles Perros
Los Que Me Respaldan Y Hacen Que Suenen Los Fierros
Gente Con Mi Gente Enemigos Muerte
A Los Traicioneros Tambien Les Retumba El Cuete
Vengo Desde Abajo La Montana Escalando
Todo Lo Que Tengo A Mi Nadie Me Lo Ha Dado
Tumbando Barreras He Luchado Aferrado
Caidas Y Tropiesos De Volada Me Levanto
Como Un Buen Soldado No Me Quedo Abajo
Sigo Pa Delante Y Pa Mi Raza Rimando

Son Cosas De Los Barrios Bajos
Mucho Delincuente Crimenes Atracos
Las Calles Hacen Al Soldado
Sufriendo Ganando Caigo Me Levanto

Orgullo Soy De Ser De Los Barrios Bajos
Donde Hay Humildad Y Nadie Te Niega Un Taco
Con Mucha Esperanza Con Huaraches O Descalzo
Nunca Vi Pa Tras Pa Delante Caminando
Yo Creci En Las Calles En El Barrio En La Pandilla
Me Gane Mi Apodo Peleando Por Mi Clika
Sigo Caminando Por Las Calles De Mi Barrio
Todo Es Diferente Son Nuevos Soldados
Unos Ya Murieron Otros Encerrados
Solo Hay Recuerdos Y Pocos Veteranos
Las Calles Cambiaron La Gente Ya Es Otra
Y Queda El Recuerdo Y Sigue Mi Tropa

Desde California Esta La Conecta
Por Mexico Entero Sur Se Representa
Tattoos Sicatrices Bien Marcados En Mi Piel

Como Un Buen Soldado Pa Delante Sin Caer
Rimas Verdaderas Letras Callejeras
En Las Noches Balas Botellas O Rinas Guerras

Son Cosas De Los Barrios Bajos
Mucho Delincuente Crimenes Atracos
Las Calles Hacen Al Soldado
Sufriendo Ganando Caigo Me Levanto

Rimas Pa Mi Gente De Este Delincuente
Lo Que Yo Vivi En Musica Se Convierte
Seguimos Rimando Tambien Representando
Puro 1-3 Siempre Firmes Los Soldados
Aca En Puente Grande Muchos Encerrados
Saludos Carnales No Los Olvidamos
Discriminacion Por La Vestimenta

Porque Ando Pelon Y No Tuve Escuela
Pero No Ocupe La Vida Me Ensena
Salir Adelante Eso Como Cuestra
Vengo De La Calle Yo Nunca Lo Niego
Titulo De Gangsta Loco Pandillero
Rimas De Mi Mente Para Los Guerreros

Para Los Soldados Que En Mi Siempre Creyeron
Sigo Haciendo Letras Cantando En Conciertos
Voy Representando Por El Mundo Entero
Esto Es De La Calle Letras De Mi Vida
Lo Que Yo Vivi Aca Por La Santa Chila

Son Cosas De Los Barrios Bajos
Mucho Delincuente Crimenes Atracos
Las Calles Hacen Al Soldado
Sufriendo Ganando Caigo Me Levanto

Things of the Neighborhood

I come from the streets, proud of my neighborhood,
I wouldn't trade that for all the money in the world.
Cobblestone streets, vices, crimes, robberies,
Hunger and poverty, struggling for a bite.
That's how I grew up, walking through the ghetto,
Learning things from the crazy street people.
I didn't have school, only loyal dogs,
Those who back me up and make the metal clang.
People with my people, death to enemies,
Traitors also get a taste of the gun.
I come from below, climbing the mountain,
Everything I have, nobody gave it to me.
Breaking down barriers, I've fought hard,
Falls and stumbles, I get up right away.
Like a good soldier, I don't stay down,
I keep going forward, rhyming for my people.

These are things of the low neighborhoods,
Lots of delinquents, crimes, robberies,
The streets make the soldier,
Suffering, winning, I fall, I get up.

I'm proud to be from the low neighborhoods,
Where there's humility and no one denies you a bite,
With lots of hope, with huaraches or barefoot,
I never looked back, walking forward.
I grew up on the streets, in the neighborhood, in the gang,
I earned my nickname fighting for my clique.
I keep walking the streets of my neighborhood,
Everything's different, they're new soldiers,
Some have died, others are locked up,
There are only memories and a few veterans.
The streets have changed, the people are different now,
And the memory remains, and my crew continues.

From California the connection is made,
Throughout Mexico, the South is represented,
Tattoos, scars, well marked on my skin.

Like a good soldier, forward without falling,
True rhymes, street lyrics,
At night, bullets, bottles, or gang wars.

These are things of the low neighborhoods,
Lots of delinquents, crimes, robberies,
The streets make the soldier,
Suffering, winning, I fall, I get up.

Rhymes for my people, from this delinquent,
What I lived turns into music,
We keep rhyming, also representing,
Pure 1-3, the soldiers always stand firm.
Here in Puente Grande, many are locked up,
Greetings to the homies, we don't forget you.
Discrimination because of clothing,

Because I'm bald and I didn't go to school,
But I didn't need it, life teaches me.
To get ahead, that's how much it costs,
I come from the streets, I never deny it.
Gangsta title, crazy gang member,
Rhymes from my mind for the warriors,

For the soldiers who always believed in me,
I keep writing lyrics, singing in concerts,
I'm representing all over the world,
This is from the streets, lyrics from my life,
What I lived here in the holy Chila.

These are things of the low neighborhoods,
Lots of delinquents, crimes, robberies,
The streets make the soldier,
Suffering, winning, I fall, I get up.