Текст и перевод песни SFDK - Ternera Podrida (Zatu Vs. Shotta) [Bonus Track]

Ternera Podrida (Zatu Vs. Shotta) [Bonus Track]

Shura, odio tu odio a K.R.S.
Mi cara será fea hermano la tuya es un pie,
Eres un títere,
Por eso en el sello no te fiché,
Pides un veinte por ciento y no te mereces más de
Un diez,
Hoy ando por la calle con la autoridad de,
Un nota que sabe que Ignacio ladra y que no va
A morder,
Aunque se ponga borde,
Tenemos que ver,
Esa cabeza de niño mongolo que le hace los coros
Al Manuel,
Recuerdo aquel verano, en el parque en Pinomontano,
Allí sabíamos que esas letras te las escribió tu hermano,
Todos flipábamos con Tote,
Tú solo compartes litera y cuarto,
O sea que eres bueno de rebote,
Sal del edificio antes de que explote,
Ni siquiera puedes ser el mejor rapero de
Tu bloque,
Aunque te coloques de monguis, M o cocaína.

Zatu, tiene la cara del que tiene miedo,
Alguno nuevo venga y le ponga el culo como un
Bebedero,
Me acuerdo de tus pelos feos en el noventa y pico, creo,
Nadie te entendería porque hablabas mal, como en
Hebreo,
Hoy no me fumé ninguno, estoy despierto,
Has empezado a leer con treinta años, dime que no
Es cierto,
A mí no se me mata ni después de muerto,
Eres un lerdo, con esa sonrisa de azafata en los
Conciertos,
El primo de Promoe ensanchado,
Te pareces a Paco Aguilera y su reggaetón
Aflamencado,
Cruzcampo te hizo famoso de la mano,
Flipabas con el Tote, yo no compito con
Mis hermanos,
Estoy sentado en el bloque,
Con el poeta pureta in the place,
Yo soy fan del Ingeniero y no del Niño Güey,
Es lamentable, dile que se compre un peine,
Y sea amable con el disfraz de veinte pavos,
Te odia hasta Bob Marley.

Mi estilo es tu sauna,
Tu selva es mi fauna,
Tuviste buenos padres, vaina,
Dime por qué arrastras esos traumas,
Un cuerpo Fido Dido en un rapero enfurecido,
Es tan reconocido que hasta junior se mete contigo,
Deberías de hacer un libro con tus crisis,
Olvida ya Sevilla y ve a chupársela al Griffi,
Tengo fatiga, castigo tu falta de disciplina,
Buscas broncas y te escondes con tus colegas
De Shapina,
Dos tarrinas de vaselina, sal de tu guarida,
Pureta Wear es la marca que te abriga,
No tienes calle tienes dudas,
Ve a la tele y te censuran,
En Música 1, tú no la pintas, haces caricaturas,
Qué vienen a contarme a estas alturas,
Historias de que la calle es dura o que tus cejas
Son peludas,
Y es que en la Sexta se te apoda Shura,
Yo tengo patas en el nabo y les tengo que
Poner herraduras.

Yo, andas por la calle con la utoridad de un nabo,
2005, llena tus bolsillos estoy en el lavabo,
Vomitando antes de un concierto,
Me he metido...,
Con tu colega Junior y todo Triana se ha encendido,
Shotta escupe catedrales, ya ves mis vocales,
Sal de los hoteles, bueno, por lo menos eres
Ameno,
Yo sí que no ceno, ojalá te mate un fan como a John Lennon,
El monstruo de los Goonies tiene suerte ya verá.
Con sus piernas del cruji-pollo sólo comes libélulas,
Al final te lloverá mi lluvia dorada, sin avisar,
Cada vez que sales a la calle te crees que te van a
Robar y es normal,
Ni que nacieras en el vacíe,
Es para que te vacíen,
Saliste vivo de Chile por poco así que sonríe
Que mil discípulos míos te la lien,
Te envíen quinientos kies y ni tu perro Juan es fíe.

Con cara de pan de pueblo y con más letras
Que la Biblia,
Ponen, copión de Jesuly en Internet, normal
Que entone,
Si mis dones son suposiciones, échame esa caja de condones,
Y deja que te dé lecciones,
Tus letras son del Micho, literatura Su hermano,
No pisas Pinomontano ni de broma todo se ha
Dicho,
Estamos harto de tanto bastardo, ya,
El diablo de alma buena condena tu canto y tu
Puesta en escena,
Porque lloras tanto, paraces un actor barato
Y paleto,
Sin tu DJ no eres nadie todos mis respetos,
Ponte un sello y dame un diez por ciento en tu oficina,
Tócate el clítoris y pon mi disco en tu vitrína,
Si parto el litro de cerveza nadie opina,
Si no fueras con el Loko de coros te
Cagarías encima,
Me meo en tu BMW, en el capó de lejos,
Muchos paparazzi hay, no te desnudes borracho, es
Un consejo.

¿Consejo?, acaba el curso de informático,
Y dile a tu viejo que te renueve en el club náutico,
Que Borja y Pocholo te esperen,
Tú y tu borrachera, dices que la perdiste,
Pero te picaron la cartera,
Cerca de los trinta pero cuidome en salud,
Por eso aguanto en un contierto el doble que tú,
De nombre Zatu versus la putilla del sur,
Ponte un bikini y ve a limpiarte el Lamborghini a
Mucho Mu (¡uh!)
Miro ese cuerpo, recuerdo algún incesto,
Y digo tu nombre por compromiso en mis directos,
O tus muertos, te veo en el Messenger y me desconecto,
Me debes algo, pestoso, te háras famoso después
De esto,
Que quieres más cogrecto, traes la "egre" de defecto,
Mis golpes con efecto, versus tu rollito retro,
Diez años de carrera y me hablas de innovar,
(¡tío!) Tu tema La Selva es como le mensaje de
GrandMaster Flash.

Rotten Veal (Zatu Vs. Shotta) [Bonus Track]

Shura, I hate your hatred for K.R.S.
My face may be ugly, bro, but yours is a foot,
You're a puppet,
That's why I didn't sign you to the label,
You ask for twenty percent and you deserve no more than
Ten,
Today I walk down the street with the authority of
A dude who knows that Ignacio is a thief and won't
Bite,
Even if he gets cocky,
We have to see,
That mongoloid baby head that does the backing vocals
For Manuel,
I remember that summer, in the park in Pinomontano,
There we knew that your brother wrote those lyrics for you,
We were all tripping with Tote,
You only share a bunk bed and a room,
So you're good by proxy,
Get out of the building before it explodes,
You can't even be the best rapper in
Your block,
Even if you get high on monguis, M, or cocaine.

Zatu has the face of someone who is afraid,
Someone new comes and turns his ass into a
Drinking fountain,
I remember your ugly hair back in '90-something, I think,
Nobody would understand you because you spoke badly, like in
Hebrew,
Today I didn't smoke any, I'm awake,
You started reading at thirty, tell me it's not
True,
I can't be killed even after I'm dead,
You're a slowpoke, with that flight attendant smile at
Concerts,
Promoe's cousin rehearsing,
You look like Paco Aguilera and his flamenco
Reggaeton,
Cruzcampo made you famous by hand,
You were tripping with Tote, I don't compete with
My brothers,
I'm sitting on the block,
With the pureta poet in the place,
I'm a fan of El Ingeniero and not Niño Güey,
It's regrettable, tell him to buy a comb,
And be kind with the twenty-buck costume,
Even Bob Marley hates you.

My style is your sauna,
Your jungle is my fauna,
You had good parents, girl,
Tell me why you drag those traumas,
A Fido Dido body in an enraged rapper,
He's so well known that even Junior messes with you,
You should write a book about your crises,
Forget about Seville and go suck Griffi's dick,
I'm fatigued, I punish your lack of discipline,
You look for fights and hide with your buddies
From Shapina,
Two tubs of Vaseline, come out of your hideout,
Pureta Wear is the brand that keeps you warm,
You don't have street, you have doubts,
Go on TV and you'll get censored,
In Music 1, you don't paint, you make cartoons,
What are they coming to tell me at this point,
Stories that the street is hard or that your eyebrows
Are hairy,
And that's because on La Sexta they call you Shura,
I have paws on my dick and I have to
Put horseshoes on them.

Yo, you walk down the street with the authority of a dick,
2005, fill your pockets, I'm in the bathroom,
Vomiting before a concert,
I got involved...
With your buddy Junior and all of Triana has lit up,
Shotta spits cathedrals, you see my vocals,
Get out of the hotels, well, at least you're
Entertaining,
I don't have dinner, I wish a fan would kill you like John Lennon,
The Goonies monster is lucky, you'll see.
With your KFC chicken legs, you only eat dragonflies,
In the end my golden shower will rain on you, without warning,
Every time you go out you think they're going to
Rob you, and it's normal,
Even if you weren't born in the wasteland,
It's for them to empty you,
You barely got out of Chile alive so smile
That a thousand disciples of mine fill you up,
Send you five hundred kies and not even your dog Juan is loyal.

With a face like village bread and with more lyrics
Than the Bible,
They put, Jesuly's copycat on the Internet, it's normal
That he sings,
If my gifts are assumptions, throw me that box of condoms,
And let me give you lessons,
Your lyrics are from Micho, his brother's literature,
You don't step on Pinomontano even as a joke, everything has been
Said,
We're sick of so many bastards, already,
The devil with a good soul condemns your singing and your
Staging,
Because you cry so much, you look like a cheap actor
And a hick,
Without your DJ you are nobody, all my respect,
Start a label and give me ten percent in your office,
Touch your clitoris and put my record in your display case,
If I break the liter of beer nobody has an opinion,
If you didn't go with Loko for backing vocals, you'd
Shit yourself,
I piss on your BMW, on the hood from afar,
There are a lot of paparazzi, don't get naked drunk, it's
A tip.

Advice? Finish your computer course,
And tell your old man to renew your membership at the yacht club,
Let Borja and Pocholo wait for you,
You and your drunkenness, you say you lost it,
But they picked your pocket,
Close to thirty but I take care of my health,
That's why I can last twice as long as you at a concert,
Named Zatu versus the southern whore,
Put on a bikini and go clean the Lamborghini at
Mucho Mu (uh!)
I look at that body, I remember some incest,
And I say your name out of obligation in my live shows,
Or your dead, I see you on Messenger and I disconnect,
You owe me something, stinky, you'll be famous after
This,
You want more "cogrect," you bring the "egre" by default,
My punches with effect, versus your retro thing,
Ten years of career and you talk to me about innovation,
(Dude!) Your song La Selva is like the message of
GrandMaster Flash.