Текст и перевод песни STOKA - Kak' Je Bilo Prije

Kak' Je Bilo Prije

U ono vrijeme mislili smo da nam je na dlanu svijet,
Bez puno pameti, brige, svi povezani ko net
Svi ko jedan,
Rimali rime cijeli tjedan,
Nosili od šireg šire a sad se smješkam kad mlade gledam
Dok godine redam koje se nižu kao karike
Znam, mijenjamo se svi al nam ostaju stare navike
I nema te matematike koja će vratit dane i moje TGZ vrane jel vrijeme nikad ne stane
Sjecam se Two Fasta, i repa od Real Fasta, tad me uzela cesta ko svoju prinovu od mrijesta
Posto sam ko apostol, nosio rimu na sva mjesta, utjelovio rap kroz Duha Svetog da čuva me od prokletstva
A često sam se selio dok se na Kvatrić nisam doselio pa tamo rap dijelio al me neko posebno veselio
Nisu ga znali ko Stoka a pao sam od šoka kad je mali stvarno ono počeo mikrofon da roka
Lima iz kvarta, otkačen od starta i zabavljač u društvu potreban ko Joker karta
Ili točka na i, s njim smo se smijali svi
Ma da mi se sad vratit na hakl u Noviću 3
E to su bila vremena, sunce, šica, vedra lica provod, špica, uz grafove sa skica
Naš mali raj, volio sam kvart taj, dan danas ga volim, u srcu je isti sjaj!
Kad se svega toga sjetim, kad s mislima tamo letim, nad tim razdobljem svetim i danas to još osjetim
Ta sreća, te face, kad stariji freestyle bace i uživat u rimama Davida, Festa il Tace
Muzici Frksa Phila, čaroliji vinila, kad u zvono oko vrata litra mlijeka se pila
Kad se svega toga sjetim, e to su vremena bila šta bila su mi mila uz repere ko gerila
Do Kluba Radija 1, kluba naše kulture, zajebancija i repanja zgužvan do kasne ure
Do Aquariusa, Gjure, u širokom kad se sjure i prekidanja tuðih gaža s Neredom nakon ture
To su bili dani kad hrvatski velikani nama nisu bili potrebni da dobro nam bude vani
To mi fali, to me pali, za tim srce mi žali
Sve je bilo drugačije, prijatelji bit smo znali
Kak je bilo prije, kak se sada brije
Vraćam se u dane Kvatrića, Kustošije x4
Od hobija do zanimanja, dema do prvog snimanja
Mišići vrata jaki od tolkog glavinog klimanja
Žuljevi majka primanja, pola života rimanja Grad bi nam trebo dat status umjetnika i primanja
Spomenik rap eliti, trebali bi ministri biti a grad šaren po fasadama Vice City grafiti
Ulicama da se čaga, da anðeo razbije vraga, eto takva zajebancija bila bi mi jebeno draga
Da opet smo svi skupa ko jedna grupa, da srce u ritmu lupa vraća od školskih klupa
Da muzika opet buba iz skloništa, šupa, radi prekrasne zike podsjećaju nas iz MUP-a
Tako bilo je prije, di to vrijeme sada di je, di se puši, pije i smije di bolje bile su brije
Uvijek vraćam se u dane Kvatrića, Kustošije, vraćam se u dane Kvatrića, Kustošije!
Kak je bilo prije, kak se sada brije
Vracam se u dane Kvatrića, Kustošije x4

How It Used to Be

Back then, we thought the world was in our hands,
Without much worry, all connected like the net.
All as one,
Rhyming rhymes all week long,
Wearing baggy clothes, now I smile when I see the young ones.
As the years stack up like links in a chain,
I know, we all change, but old habits remain.
And there's no math that can bring back the days and my TGZ crew, because time never stands still.
I remember Two Fast, and Real Fast's raps, back when the streets took me in like their own spawn.
Like an apostle, I carried rhymes everywhere, embodied rap through the Holy Spirit to protect me from the curse.
I moved around a lot until I settled in Kvatrić, sharing rap there, but someone special cheered me on.
They didn't know him as Stoka, and I was shocked when the little guy really started rocking the microphone.
Lima from the hood, off the hook from the start, and a necessary entertainer in the group like a Joker card.
Or the dot on the i, we all laughed with him,
Man, I'd love to go back to hacking in Novića 3.
Those were the times, sunshine, weed, happy faces, fun, rush hour, with graffiti sketches.
Our little paradise, I loved that hood, I still love it today, the same shine is in my heart!
When I think back on all that, when my thoughts fly there, over that sacred period, I still feel it today.
That happiness, those faces, when the older guys drop freestyles and enjoy the rhymes of David, Fest, or Tac.
The music of Frx Phil, the magic of vinyl, when a liter of milk was drunk around the neck like a bell.
When I think back on all that, those were the times that were dear to me with rappers like guerrillas.
To Radio 1 Club, the club of our culture, jokes and rapping crammed in until late at night.
To Aquarius, Gjure, when they'd rush in wearing baggy clothes, and interrupting other people's gigs with Nereda after a bender.
Those were the days when we didn't need Croatian celebrities to have a good time outside.
I miss that, it gets me fired up, my heart aches for it.
Everything was different, we knew how to be friends.
How it used to be, how it's shaved now.
I'm going back to the days of Kvatrić, Kustošija x4
From hobby to profession, demos to the first recording,
Neck muscles strong from all the head nodding.
Calluses mother of income, half a life of rhyming, the city should give us artist status and income.
A monument to the rap elite, we should be ministers, and the city colorful on the facades, Vice City graffiti.
Chatting on the streets, the angel smashing the devil, that kind of fun would be damn dear to me.
For us all to be together again as one group, for the heart to beat in rhythm, returning from school desks.
For the music to boom again from shelters, sheds, for the beautiful music they remind us of from the MUP.
That's how it used to be, where is that time now, where we smoke, drink, and laugh, where the shaves were better.
I always go back to the days of Kvatrić, Kustošija, I go back to the days of Kvatrić, Kustošija!
How it used to be, how it's shaved now.
I'm going back to the days of Kvatrić, Kustošija x4