Текст и перевод песни Wikluh Sky - Ortaci ne znaju

Ortaci ne znaju

Wikluh Sky sine, 23
Osecam zajebano sranje se priblizava.
Ekipe s plasticnim ganovima, sranje ce biti nemilosrdno
Ulice su vrele.!

Wikluh Sky ime, zajebane rime, 23 Brdo Banovo moj kraj sine,
Nisam u prici da bi navat'o neke picke,
Toga vec imam pun kurac i sve su divne,
Ne glumim gangstera da bi fascinir'o klince
Gangsteri ubijaju, ne repuju
Djubre s bine sitinih klubova za par svojih drugova
Kidam za siroke mase biznis mi je unosan,
Uzimam kes, vidimo se posle
Znam ratatam dal ti to mozes?
Mislim da ne, jer do sad bi bili cool
Ovako ja przim klubove ti si na mene ljut,
Potresas me do suza sav tvoj rep postao je tuzan,
Zajeban si zato sto ga primas s guza,
Nevidjen jer niko te i ne vidi buraz,
Rucicama mases jer si ortak fiskultura,
Gluposti lupetas da ti nije ravan bubanj
Vezbas da se mrstis da bi pric'o da si cudan,
Tvoj flow pronacice show 'Sve za ljubav'
Repovanje odlicno ti stoji sine, ko biseru sline ili ko piletu sise;
Posveceno reperima koji pizde sto smo broj 1 na vrhu svake liste!

Ortaci ne znaju i za kes mole se
Mrze mene jer mi ide i to je sve
Uspeh se neprasta prosta stvar, lova jos manje to je sranje
I da su 2 put veci isto bi bilo i da su 2 put jaci bilo bi malo
Uspeh se ne prasta prosta stvar, lova jos manje to je sranje

Beng beng pistolj ti je igracka ne puca,
Riba ti je ortak, e on te tuca
Rasili su ti se savovi, glava pukla, magarcino skini se svima s kurca
Snimaj prozivke i sample pucanj i mrzi me jos vise jer si glupav
Ti nisi psiho ti si mamicin sin,
Rekla mi je da si kulturan i vaspitan, fin
Prodajes price kako prodajes travu, u svom malom iznajmljenom stanu
Nosis noz pricas o nekakvom ganu,
Racune placas kad prepolovis mamicinu platu
Bes, ogorcenje, jer nemas nastupe
Ljudi osete da si fake, ne zovu te
Samo 2006. s Marcelom sam bio svuda,
Sine ti takva mesta nikad neces videti

Kes, kucke, fensi klubovi,
Hoteli, poslovi unosni,
Da ne serem sad nemam milione,
Al sve sto vise radim, brate blizi sam tome
I nemoj se zajebavas sa mnom budalo
Ja te ne diram zato odbij i idi spavaj malo
Ako si bolestan tolko ko sto kazes da jesi
Nabi toplomer u cmar i lekove i odjebi

Buddies Don't Know

Wikluh Sky, son, 23
I feel shitty, some crap is approaching.
Crews with plastic guns, shit will be merciless
The streets are hot.!

Wikluh Sky is the name, sick rhymes, 23 Brdo Banovo is my hood, son,
I'm not in the game to catch some chicks,
I already have a dick full of them, and they're all gorgeous,
I don't pretend to be a gangster to fascinate kids
Gangsters kill, they don't rap
Scum from the stage of tiny clubs for a couple of your buddies
I'm ripping it for the masses, my business is lucrative,
I'm taking the cash, see you later
I know ratatat, can you do that?
I don't think so, because by now you'd be cool
This way, I'm frying clubs, you're mad at me,
You shake me to tears, all your rap has become sad,
You're tough because you take it from behind,
Unseen because nobody even sees you, bro,
You wave your arms because you're buddies with gym class,
You talk nonsense that the drum can't match
You practice frowning so you can say you're weird,
Your flow will be found by the show 'All for Love'
Rapping suits you perfectly, son, like drool on a pearl or tits on a chick;
Dedicated to rappers who are pissed that we're number 1 on top of every list!

Buddies don't know and they beg for cash
They hate me because I'm doing well, that's all
Success is not forgiven, simple thing, money even less, that's the shit
And if they were 2 times bigger, it would be the same, and if they were 2 times stronger, it would be little
Success is not forgiven, simple thing, money even less, that's the shit

Bang bang, your pistol is a toy, it doesn't shoot,
Fish is your buddy, yeah, he beats you up
Your seams have come apart, your head is cracked, you donkey, get off everyone's dick
Record disses and sample shots and hate me even more because you're stupid
You're not psycho, you're a mama's boy,
She told me you're cultured and well-mannered, nice
You sell stories about selling weed, in your small rented apartment
You carry a knife, you talk about some gan,
You pay your bills when you halve your mom's salary
Rage, resentment, because you have no gigs
People feel that you're fake, they don't call you
Only in 2006 with Marcel I was everywhere,
Son, you will never see such places

Cash, bitches, fancy clubs,
Hotels, lucrative jobs,
Not to brag, I don't have millions now,
But the more I work, bro, the closer I am to that
And don't mess with me, fool
I don't touch you, so back off and go get some sleep
If you're as sick as you say you are
Stick a thermometer up your ass and take your meds and fuck off