Текст и перевод песни Rapsusklei - Player Hater (con Karty er Nene)

Player Hater (con Karty er Nene)

Cuido los rumores, se lo que el niño cuenta
Hablan mierda, nuestro culo en venta
¿Dónde estaba él cuando empezé en los noventa?
En la tripa de su maami, rodeado de placenta
Yo no flojeo, mi nivel aumenta
Todo lo que hago 100×100 me representa
Pero lo que hace el tonto es que me rebienta
Porque la mitad de lo que cuenta se lo inventa
Como no sabe hacer nada bién que se dedica a destruir
Y cuando fuimos a por él solo supo huir
Ya ves tu, que valiente, boquita de fusil
No se porque me doy más si lo tenia que induir.

Mide por cada talento, más de cien envidias
Y si estas arriba aun es más facil que te pillen tirria
Pero lo nuestro es escultura y lo que hacen ellos una birria
Por eso chilla, chilla, chilla pero mi nombre no mancilla.

Y cuando vengais por mi zona, ya veremos
Si esque teneis huevos o seguis siendo unos memos
Hablan por la espalda y se ocultan bajo falda
Para ellos guardo balas, balas, y larga espada.

()
No se porque hablan tanta mierda de mi
Quizas mis fallos les hagan feliz
Hay que arrancar el problema de raiz
Porque mi musica abre la cicatriz
(BIS x2)

Muchos que hablan envidia celosamente
Critican sin saber de la vida de cualquier ente
Es tan evidente e irreal que ya me canso
Mirate a ti pa saber a quien coño le llamas falso
Tanto pussy, creen tener ussy
Musica no es fussy
Pa fusilar, tu si
Mi piel es jacuzzi
Mas tu estas sin hacer aun como el sushi
Tu estilo es cursi, sucio excuse
Odiadores saben a que me refiero
Si apenas nacistes y pavos ya ponian mi rap
Ya no creo en.los que me dicen te quiero
Y dejaran de escucharme seguro si me corto el pelo
Yo rapeo y mi rapeo es verdadero
Con gorra plana, gorra doblada o con un sombrero
En realidad lo que les duele es el ego
Para ti soy Rapsus, para mi un don nadie apodado Don Diego
Llego y pliego al falso, al manso, al ganso
Al niño que hoy ande descalzo
Entre cristales y fuegos al rojo vivo
Solo escribo lo que siento y siento mas de lo que escribo

()
No se porque hablan tanta mierda de mi
Quizás es que a ellos les haga feliz
Hay que arrancar el problema de raiz
Porque mi musica abre la cicatriz
(BIS x2)

Son una panda de mantas
Les gusta el canta, canta
Tanta poca masa quereis que parece una planta

Si es verdad, yo ya e visto a ese cobarde
Que critica entre la gente y venderia hasta su madre

De todas formas, si esto te parece tan facil
Puedes cojer micro, papel y lapiz

Cada vez que lo pienso critica el que menos atencion merece
Parece que el pobre carece de algo y lo paga con alguien ajeno y con eso se crece

Con buyas rotos, largas caras, mala baba,
Cancion dedicada, una firma tachada
La punta de mi aba se hincha y estalla

Pasate de la raya, eso no es tener agayas
Mejor coges tus medallas, tus lacayas y te callas

Seguramente diran que he cambiado
Y criticaran porque no hago lo mismo que hace diez años
Me cago en su puta madre quieren que no evolucionen
Que escriba mi vida en el muro de las lamentaciones

Es mi tiempo, mi esfuerzo, se bien como me siento
Y al que no me quiera que se crea todos sus cuentos

Se de donde vengo y a hacia donde me dirigo
Tu puedes odiarme ahora, yo te enseñé que era el hiphop

()
No se porque hablan tanta mierda de mi
Quizás es que a ellos les haga feliz
Hay que arrancar el problema de raiz
Porque mi musica abre la cicatriz
(BIS x2)

Player Hater (with Karty er Nene)

I watch the rumors, I know what the kid says
They talk shit, our asses for sale
Where was he when I started in the nineties?
In his mommy's belly, surrounded by placenta
I don't slack, my level increases
Everything I do represents me 100×100
But what the fool does is burst me
Because half of what he says is made up
Since he can't do anything well, he dedicates himself to destroying
And when we went after him, he only knew how to flee
You see, what a brave man, little mouth of a gun
I don't know why I give myself more if I had to induce him.

Measure for each talent, more than a hundred envies
And if you're up there, it's even easier for them to catch you with disgust
But ours is a sculpture and what they do is a joke
That's why he yells, yells, yells but my name doesn't tarnish.

And when you come to my area, we'll see
If you have balls or you're still some memos
They talk behind your back and hide under skirts
For them I keep bullets, bullets, and a long sword.

()
I don't know why they talk so much shit about me
Maybe my failures make them happy
We have to tear the problem out by the roots
Because my music opens the scar
(CHORUS x2)

Many who speak envy jealously
They criticize without knowing about the life of any entity
It's so obvious and unreal that I'm already tired
Look at yourself to know who the fuck you call fake
So much pussy, they think they have ussy
Music is not fussy
To shoot, yes you
My skin is a jacuzzi
But you're still unmade like sushi
Your style is cheesy, dirty excuse
Haters know what I mean
If you were barely born and turkeys were already playing my rap
I no longer believe in those who tell me I love you
And they will surely stop listening to me if I cut my hair
I rap and my rap is true
With a flat cap, a folded cap or a hat
Actually what hurts them is their ego
For you I'm Rapsus, for me a nobody nicknamed Don Diego
I arrive and fold to the false, the meek, the goose
To the child who walks barefoot today
Among crystals and fires red hot
I only write what I feel and I feel more than I write

()
I don't know why they talk so much shit about me
Maybe it makes them happy
We have to tear the problem out by the roots
Because my music opens the scar
(CHORUS x2)

They're a bunch of blankets
They like the sing, sing
So little dough you want it looks like a plant

Yes it's true, I've already seen that coward
Who criticizes among people and would sell even his mother

Anyway, if this seems so easy to you
You can take a microphone, paper and pencil

Every time I think about it, the one who deserves the least attention criticizes
It seems that the poor man lacks something and pays for it with someone else and with that he grows

With broken buyas, long faces, bad baba,
Dedicated song, a crossed out signature
The tip of my aba swells and bursts

Go over the line, that's not having agayas
You better take your medals, your lackeys and shut up

They'll probably say I've changed
And they will criticize because I don't do the same as ten years ago
I shit on his fucking mother they want them not to evolve
Let him write my life on the wailing wall

It's my time, my effort, I know how I feel
And whoever doesn't love me, let him believe all his stories

I know where I come from and where I'm going
You can hate me now, I taught you what hiphop was

()
I don't know why they talk so much shit about me
Maybe it makes them happy
We have to tear the problem out by the roots
Because my music opens the scar
(CHORUS x2)