Champions - Seedhe Maut перевод на английский

Champions

Nahi chahiye koi hain kalle daitya (Rakshas)
Ye rapper nahi hain bhadwe smacky hain (Bhadwe)
Inke show pe peeche vocal chalte track ni hai? (Track chalre)
Aate live firr karte randi rone cranky hain
Jao peete desh bhar me dhindora bande champions
Aur merpe time ni hai (Time ni hai)
Bande mehenti hai (Mehnati hai)
Na pehne doosri baar ek kapda show pe fancy hain
Aur bandi sexy hai (Sexy hai)
Ek mota cheque bhi hai
Ha likhre vanity me gaana ladke
Thak chuka chup hoke whack launde bohot
Aagaye scene me ni sune ye naam mene, anh
Talli the launde jab bola tha peeche par
Aage jab mile to sorry bhaiya
Aur chode jo log abhi saath unhe pata ni aage jo hoga to unhi ka losss
Ye rapper hi karre the catch up hai
Pehle se malum hai merepe saari sauce
I don't give a fuck about you (Chal be lawde)
Jau chutti pe kathmandu
Sumdi me gaand faad du (Gaand faad)
Har chaal meri bad man move (Bad man)
Har saal tried to keep my cool
Abhi scene poora choosra hai khoon
Tabhi tera bhai kootra hai boom
Dono bhai tycoon, seekho rap byju dono bhai se
Karke diss lete hype ye bitch I don't know that shit hu uchaayi pe
Ladke likhre hain script do side pe
Ek aadhe gaane the laundo ke bhi
Drip ho to mere jaisi
Inn bacho pe karu me flex inki umar se zyada anghooti me heere, aanh
Sehwag aur gautam gambhir hain
Ja chod de Ma bolte zameer hain
Aadhe ye lodu badheer hain ye
Baatein karte lawde hustle ki par inke papa ameer hain
Goo kha pehle, teri bandi zyada geeli hoke
Lage aake badan pe hai loofah jaise
Aaye khoon kaano se sunu—
Are, are bhai, kaise karke maanega
Ruk ja, ruk ja, tham ja, saans le le
Maine kuch likha hai, sun ke bata
Kehene ko kafi karta quafir rap
Rappy rappy rap
Tha pehenta jabse baap ka blazer aur
Neeche bagy pants
Bandi bolti mic pe freak hu aur
Hu mai freak in bed
Tu khali hai shakal se lagta freak, bro thats freakin' bad
Yaha launde palre baap ki FD pe
Ghr ghrahasti me
Fir chede bandiya gali ke bhar, sasti masti me
Aur iski bhen ko jonsa taade
To ye hadd kaleshi hai
Pitega vo aur uska baap aur uska baap
Maza bhi mehengi masti hai
Ye bhoore nakhre hai
Bhoole bhatake, khoob hai Dhoop hai sar pe to chatakre hai
Khud me bajre, hun mai zoo me kyu mai
Yaha pe fachade hqi, Dilli ghoome tu mai
Aa dikhau mai tujhko Jamnapari truself
Beat aur chole kulche thoose
Ye mera kafir rap
Rappy rappy rap tha pehenta
Jabse baap ka blazer aur neeche baggy pants
Ya bandi boli mic pe freak hu, aur hu mai freak in bed
Tu khali hai shakal se lagta freak (Hain
Bro that's freaking bad
Hum launde itni tez ki tum launde se hum peeche (Hain, kya?)
Laps ka hai farak humaare beech mei (Yo)
Inki naav mei hai ched, mujhe saath leke kheeche
Par tatte rehte baawe mesha laude ke neeche
Merch teri gaandfaad, album chutiya
Mere hater ko bhi pta meri saari khoobiyaan
Gaand seeda maaru baawe kuch ni khoofiya
Kyunki it's my choice mai hun Neha Dhupiya
Shabd kantaap meri vibe hi bhootiya
Ball karun hard jaise bhaichung bhootiya
Ya phir shoib Akhtar, mera flow tapke jaise bruce Lee
Kitne laundo ne vibe meri choos li
Ab Karna chahte mere se dosti
Bol ke broski, mann mei Hera phiri isilye tu close nai
Khud ko shukriya, kia overdose nai
Maine dekhe bhot kaale din, bhot kaale dil
Sab se mai upar, naam mera Aladin
Ab naye ghar mei do skylight, Subah hai bhari pari
Roshni, raat ko mai taare gin ra
Ek bhi nai hai
Ye Dilli hai baawe, ye toh safe hi nai hai
Nas pe jo chada, mere pe break hi nai hai
Mere jaise nai hai do, kyunki ek hi sahi hai
Meri ex merese bhot time le ke gayi hai
Meri cheel ki udaan, usmei change hi nai hai
Launde bante versatile jinmei range hi nai hai
Dil se aati ni awaaz kyunki pain hi nai hai
Launde hatapai ki kyu karre baate?
Blondie ko bol camera on video kaatei
One on one aake tu karle phir park mei
Dost ko bhi lapaet lunga tere saath mei
Buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh
Mujhe ni aati hai baatei samaj (Kaun bolra hai?)
Jo aati vo aadhe se zyaada hawa mei
Teri soch se zyaada chotte hum chaapte (Oh! Bitch)
Maa chudaye teri do kaudi ka flex
Meri bandi teri bandi se behtar I'm blessed
Tu ek samhaal mere do do biness
Jo bhi mai karta mai karta finess, bitch
Seedhe Maut, tera bhai, do hazaar taess (Yes sir)
Badsurat bachkaand rappero ke liye maut
Dilli, yes sir, ji haan
Jahan se aaya wahan se jao chalo

Champions

Don't need anyone, I'm a lone monster (Rakshas)
These aren't rappers, they're just smacky clowns (Bhadwe)
Do they play backing vocals at their shows? (Track's playing)
They come live and then cry like bitches, they're cranky
Go drink, make a fuss all over the country, you champions
And I got no time for them (No time)
I'm a hard worker (Hard worker)
Never wear the same clothes twice at a show, I'm fancy
And my girl is sexy (Sexy)
Got a fat check too
Yeah, writing songs in the vanity, boy
Tired of being quiet, whack boys, enough
Came in the scene, haven't heard this name before, huh?
Boys were drunk when they talked behind my back, but
When they met me later, it was "sorry, bro"
And those who left me now, they don't know what the future holds, so it's their loss
These rappers were playing catch up
Everyone knows I've got all the sauce
I don't give a fuck about you (Get lost, dickhead)
I'm going on vacation to Kathmandu
Gonna tear some ass in Thamel (Tear ass)
Every move I make is a bad man move (Bad man)
Every year I tried to keep my cool
Now the whole scene is sucking blood
That's why your boy is going boom
Both brothers are tycoons, learn rap from both of us, Byju
Dissing to get hype, bitch, I don't know that shit, I'm high up
Boys are writing scripts on both sides
These dudes had a couple of songs too
If you want drip, be like me
I flex on these kids, more diamonds on my ring than their age, huh
We're Sehwag and Gautam Gambhir
Go fuck yourself, Ma says we're conscience
Half these idiots are deaf
Talking about the hustle but their daddies are rich
Eat shit first, your girl gets too wet
She comes onto me like a loofah
Blood's coming out of my ears, I hear—
Hey, hey bro, how will you understand?
Wait, wait, stop, take a breath
I've written something, listen and tell me
I say a lot, I do blasphemous rap
Rappy rappy rap
Been wearing dad's blazer since forever and
Baggy pants below
Girl says she's a freak on the mic and
I'm a freak in bed
You're empty, you look like a freak, bro, that's freakin' bad
These boys live off their dad's fixed deposits
Domestically
Then they tease girls outside, cheap fun
And whoever stares at his sister
He's so damn troublesome
He'll get beat up, and his dad, and his dad
Fun is expensive too
These are cheap tricks
Lost and forgotten, it's sunny, heads are getting cracked
I'm buzzing, why am I in the zoo?
There's trouble here, you and I roam Delhi
I'll show you the true self of Jamnapaar
Beats and chole kulche stuffed
This is my blasphemous rap
Rappy rappy rap, been wearing
Dad's blazer since forever and baggy pants below
Yeah, girl said she's a freak on the mic, and I'm a freak in bed
You're empty, you look like a freak (Huh?
Bro, that's freakin' bad)
We boys are so fast that you boys are behind us (Yeah, what?)
There's a difference of laps between us (Yo)
Their boat has a hole, they try to drag me down with them
But dicks always stay under the dickhead's balls
Your merch is shit, album's trash
Even my haters know all my qualities
I'll fuck you up, no secrets
Because it's my choice, I'm Neha Dhupia
Word magic, my vibe is ghostly
I'll ball hard like Bhaichung Bhutia
Or Shoaib Akhtar, my flow drips like Bruce Lee
So many dudes sucked my vibe
Now they want to be friends with me
Calling me broski, Hera Pheri in your heart, that's why you're not close
Thanks to myself, didn't overdose
I've seen many dark days, many dark hearts
I'm above everyone, my name is Aladdin
Now in the new house, two skylights, beautiful morning
Light, at night I count the stars
There are none
This is Delhi, bro, it's not safe
What's in my nose, there's no brake on me
There's no one like me, because there's only one right one
My ex took a lot of time from me
My eagle's flight, there's no change in it
Dudes pretend to be versatile, they don't have the range
The voice doesn't come from the heart because there's no pain
Why are you guys talking about violence?
Tell Blondie to turn the camera on, cut the video
Come one on one, do it in the park then
I'll wrap up your friend with you
Boo, boo, boo, boo, boo, boo, boo, boo
I don't understand words (Who's talking?)
What I do say is mostly hot air
We slap harder than you think (Oh! Bitch)
Fuck your two-penny flex
My girl is better than your girl, I'm blessed
You handle one, I handle two businesses
Whatever I do, I do it with finesse, bitch
Seedhe Maut, your boy, two thousand twenty-three (Yes sir)
Ugly mischief is death for rappers
Delhi, yes sir, yes indeed
Go back to where you came from