Текст и перевод песни Peppe Soks feat. Lele Blade & 2nd Roof - Passamontagna (feat. Lele Blade)

Passamontagna (feat. Lele Blade)

2nd Rood music
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2nd Roof music

'Mmiezz'a na via, 'a squadra mia lascia l'impronta quanno cammina
Fummo sativo, cacciammo 'o fummo,
Pare 'o camino, tenimmo 'e chile sott"e cantine
Tu me faje ridere, je 'o cullanone e tu na catenina
Me viene 'a sotto e 'ncacaglie,
Alla fine addummanne "scusa" e curre addu mammina
Tenimmo l'arme 'ncopp"e mansarde,
Nun parlo p"e guardie, 'e 'mpennammo a fianco
Chiammo a Rafele, apparo na squadra,
Dice a 'sti scieme ca Peppe è turnato
So' nu tornado, maje stato bravo,
Si tu me chiamme, te risponne 'a strada
Niente 'a vedè cu 'sti raccomandate, nun ce sta juoco, nun ce sta gara
Già è risaputo ca stanno mute, tengo na scarpa che costa nu mutuo
Pago in contante, tutto in contante, proprio comme fanno 'e malavituse
Sorde 'int"e buche, tu te faje male, nuje p"e .38, tu 'a scaccia cane
Ma quale boss, ma quala gare, Milano parla e Napule spara

'E guagliune 'e 'sti quartiere so' pronte p"a guerra
Hanna riegnere 'sti sacche e murì da leggenda
E 'o ssaje ca lloco passano e passano ll'anne
Guagliune senza pass p"e passamontagne
E nuje stammo p"e clan, fra', chiuse 'int"o bando
'O ssaje, scennimmo 'e notte, quatto femmene 'int"o Benz, bro
Chi spara primma saglie (Yeah,
Yeah), 'e guagliune (Yeah) so' bersaglie

Whit the m o b b b obbe of the money bitch
Sorde 'ncopp"e barche, pacchere 'ncopp"e pacche
Nun traseno cchiù 'int"e sacche, ormaje saccio fa' solo 'mpicce
Arape 'a champagne e sciacquale 'e facce 'e 'sti quatto snitch
Ccà tutte quante fanno 'e boss e tutte quante fanno 'e rich
Po' 'e metteno in the box comme a chella 'e Roddy Rich
Tanto adoppo chiagneno 'e mamme, ch"e figlie guappe e nun 'o sanno
Muorte accise, morene 'e famme, nun arrivano manco a vint'anne
Quanno dice è na guerra, ccà abbascio,
Fra', 'a genta mia 'o ssape che è overo
Quanno dice l'Italia fa a posto,
Oh beh, crideme, 'o Stato è 'o Sistema
Nu guaglione se sceta 'a matina ca
'O crimine ajere nun sapeva comm'era
Nun ha cantato a nisciuno,
Però pe' tramente s'ha fatto sett'anne 'e galera

'E guagliune 'e 'sti quartiere so' pronte p"a guerra
Hanna riegnere 'sti sacche e murì da leggenda
E 'o ssaje ca lloco passano e passano ll'anne
Guagliune senza pass p"e passamontagne
E nuje stammo p"e clan, fra', chiuse 'int"o bando
'O ssaje, scennimmo 'e notte, quatto femmene 'int"o Benz, bro
Chi spara primma saglie, 'e guagliune so' bersaglie

Balaclava (feat. Lele Blade)

2nd Rood music
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2nd Roof music

In the middle of the street, my crew leaves its mark when it walks
We smoke sativa, we blow out the smoke,
It looks like a chimney, we have kilos under the cellars
You make me laugh, I'm the big shot and you're a little chain
It gets to me and pisses me off,
In the end, you say "sorry" and run to your mommy
We have weapons on the attics,
I'm not talking for the cops, we stick them in the side
We call Rafele, a squad appears,
Tell these fools that Peppe is back
I'm a tornado, never been good,
If you call me, the street answers you
Nothing to do with these recommendations, there's no game, there's no competition
It's already known that they're silent, I have a shoe that costs a mortgage
I pay in cash, everything in cash, just like the gangsters do
Money in the holes, you hurt yourself, we for the .38s, you the dog chaser
What boss, what races, Milan talks and Naples shoots

The kids in these neighborhoods are ready for war
They have to fill these bags and die as legends
And you know that places pass and years pass
Kids with no pass for balaclavas
And we are for the clans, bro, closed in the ban
You know, we go down at night, four women in the Benz, bro
Whoever shoots first goes up (Yeah,
Yeah), the kids (Yeah) are targets

Whit the m o b b b obbe of the money bitch
Money on boats, packs on packs
They don't fit in the bags anymore, now I only know how to make stacks
Open the champagne and wash the faces of these four snitches
Here they all act like bosses and they all act rich
Then they put them in the box like Roddy Rich's
So then the mothers cry, with tough kids and they don't know it
Dead, killed, dying of hunger, they don't even reach twenty
When it's a war, down here,
Bro, my people know it's true
When Italy says it's in place,
Oh well, believe me, the State is the System
A kid wakes up in the morning with
Crime yesterday he didn't know what it was like
He didn't sing to anyone,
But in the meantime, he's done seven years in jail

The kids in these neighborhoods are ready for war
They have to fill these bags and die as legends
And you know that places pass and years pass
Kids with no pass for balaclavas
And we are for the clans, bro, closed in the ban
You know, we go down at night, four women in the Benz, bro
Whoever shoots first goes up, the kids are targets