Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Maghze Dar Rafte, artist - Amir Tataloo. Date of issue: 19.07.2012
Song language: Persian
Maghze Dar Rafte(original) |
| آقا نادر می‌گیری؟ |
| اوکی؟ |
| خب اینو دیگه |
| همه می‌دونن |
| یعنی اونایی که |
| نمی‌دونن هم بدونن |
| که این کار |
| همه‌ی زندگی منه |
| به همین کار، قسم |
| هیچ کدوم از |
| حرفای این تو |
| دروغ نی |
| زبون بعضی وقتا |
| دروغ میگه |
| اما این حرف دله |
| فکر می‌کنی که پیرم |
| مگه توقع داری |
| تو ازم، تا کی؟ |
| ولی می‌دونی که شیرم |
| که حتی پیرشم خطرناکه |
| آره راست میگی خسته‌م |
| ولی یه آدمه خسته |
| که هدف داره |
| دست خالی جلو میره |
| تنها به عشق |
| هر کی که طرفداره |
| من مال دو سال بعدم |
| بی خود از تو توقع داره قلبم |
| می‌دونم، نمی‌تونی بفهمی |
| چند تا پیرهن |
| بیشتر از تو پاره کردم |
| رفقا همه دچار دردن |
| از نظام آباد بگیر |
| تا شمال لندن |
| ولی ما مال اون دوره‌ایم |
| که موزیکا |
| تهرانو مچاله کردن |
| آره منم یه مغز در رفته |
| که پولاشو هدر کرده، برگشته |
| یه نابغه‌ی در به در خسته |
| زبونش تلخ |
| ولی قلبش بر عکسه |
| آره منم یه مغز در رفته |
| که پولاشو هدر کرده، برگشته |
| یه نابغه‌ی در به در خسته |
| زبونش تلخ |
| ولی قلبش بر عکسه |
| من اصلا شاد نیستم |
| حرفایی که می‌شنوی راجبم |
| راست نیستن |
| همه زندگیم رو هوا |
| کارام ریسکن |
| ولی باز |
| به زور رو پام وایمیسم |
| یه پدر ندار و مادر رویایی |
| آخرشم نفهمیدیم |
| ما برا کجاییم |
| توی این سن |
| آخر دنیاییم |
| ولی توی این صنف |
| بدون، ما همه خداییم |
| فکر نکن |
| از اون پزای تو داریم |
| نرفتیم بالا |
| ما رو دُزای کوکائین |
| و درجا نزدیم |
| و زیر چرتای خماری |
| و دورمون بالا اومدن |
| دزدای شماری |
| هی فحش میدم خودمو |
| هی یه تصمیم هر بار |
| که شل می‌گیرم |
| حتی یه تصویربردار |
| توهم می‌زنه که |
| تاثیر از کاره اونه |
| چون گرفته |
| یه تصویر از ما |
| به اون یکیم که |
| یاد دادم هر چی کم داشت |
| از هر کی دلش می‌خواست |
| هر چی برداشت |
| جنگیدم پاش |
| خندیدم باش |
| با اون که می‌دونستم |
| هیچی تهش نیست، حرفاش |
| شده از این وضع و |
| از رپ سیر چشَم |
| موزیک عشقمه درگیرشم |
| وقتی قورباغه‌ها هفت تیر کشن |
| حق بده انقدر پیر بشم |
| فکر نکن که دست می‌کشم |
| من ادامه میدم |
| حتی اگه دستگیر بشم |
| شروع کاریمو |
| از چیش بگم؟ |
| از شیفت صبح |
| یا از شیفت شب؟ |
| همه تو فکر پارتی کردن |
| من فکر به رپ و راک می‌کردم |
| هیچ منتی نیست |
| دوستون داشتم |
| که هی می‌نوشتم |
| و پاک می‌کردم |
| منو درک کن و |
| یکم حرفو بفهم |
| زحمت شب و روز |
| و دستمزد کم |
| ولی اینو می‌دونن کل شهر |
| میشه خیلی‌ها |
| از بغلم گنده بشن |
| آره منم یه مغز در رفته |
| که پولاشو هدر کرده، برگشته |
| یه نابغه‌ی در به در خسته |
| زبونش تلخ |
| ولی قلبش بر عکسه |
| آره منم یه مغز در رفته |
| که پولاشو هدر کرده، برگشته |
| یه نابغه‌ی در به در خسته |
| زبونش تلخ |
| ولی قلبش بر عکسه |
| هرکی به ما رسید |
| سریع خواست |
| حال کنه زود و |
| زدن و دزدیدن آلبوم‌مونو |
| ولی نمی‌خورن هیچ موقع |
| به فاکتورمونو |
| با دست خالی |
| دادیم به ف*ک خودمونو |
| یادمون رفته پاک خودمونو |
| گند می‌زنیم و هیچکی نی |
| پاک کنه اونو |
| رامون انقدره دور بود |
| و انقده خسته |
| انگار رسوندیم |
| به نوک آلپ خودمونو |
| هر کدوم از خاطره‌هام |
| یه قصه‌ن |
| رو آنتن، اسمم سانسوره |
| و روزام طلسمن |
| ضربه زدن همه‌ی رفقام |
| به اسمم، به حسم |
| تو هر برنامه، بعدم |
| بام یه قسمت |
| نه کسی خماری‌تو دید |
| نه کسی نعشه دیدت |
| ولی باز می‌خوای |
| بری یه جا که |
| نشه دیدت |
| گوشات از همه |
| جواب نه شنیده |
| چشات دیگه هر چی |
| که تهشه، دیده |
| هی داد زدی |
| هیچکی نشنیده |
| روزا می‌گذرن |
| میاد یه روزه لش دیگه |
| بسه دیگه |
| حقتو پس بگیرش |
| آره حقتو پس بگیرش |
| آره منم یه مغز در رفته |
| که پولاشو هدر کرده، برگشته |
| یه نابغه‌ی در به در خسته |
| زبونش تلخ |
| ولی قلبش بر عکسه |
| آره منم یه مغز در رفته |
| که پولاشو هدر کرده، برگشته |
| یه نابغه‌ی در به در خسته |
| زبونش تلخ |
| ولی قلبش بر عکسه |
| (translation) |
| Are you rare, sir? |
| OK? |
| Well, this is it |
| Everyone knows |
| That is, those who |
| They do not even know |
| That does it |
| My whole life |
| By the way, I swear |
| None of |
| The words of this you |
| There is no lie |
| The tongue sometimes |
| lie |
| But this is a heart attack |
| Do you think I'm old? |
| What do you expect? |
| How long have you been with me? |
| But you know that my milk |
| That even my old age is dangerous |
| Yes, you are right, I'm tired |
| But a tired person |
| That has a purpose |
| Empty hand goes forward |
| Only to love |
| Whoever is a fan |
| I'm mine two years later |
| My heart expects from you |
| I know, you can not understand |
| A few shirts |
| I tore more than you |
| Comrades, everyone is in pain |
| Get it from Nizamabad |
| To North London |
| But we belong to that period |
| That music |
| Crush Tehran |
| Yeah Al that sounds pretty crap to me, Looks like BT aint for me either |
| He wasted his money and came back |
| A tired door-to-door genius |
| His tongue is bitter |
| But his heart is on the picture |
| Yeah Al that sounds pretty crap to me, Looks like BT aint for me either |
| He wasted his money and came back |
| A tired door-to-door genius |
| His tongue is bitter |
| But his heart is on the picture |
| I'm not happy at all |
| The words you hear, Rajab |
| They are not right |
| All my life |
| Karam Riskan |
| But again |
| I force my feet |
| You do not have a father and a dream mother |
| I finally did not understand |
| Where are we for? |
| At this age |
| The end of the world |
| But in this class |
| No, we are all gods |
| do not think |
| We have it from you |
| We did not go up |
| We have a dose of cocaine |
| And we did not sit still |
| And under the guise of a hangover |
| And we went up |
| Counting thieves |
| Hey, I'm cursing myself |
| Hey one decision every time |
| Which I loosen |
| Even a photographer |
| The illusion that |
| Impact of his work |
| Because taken |
| A picture of us |
| To that one |
| I taught him what he lacked |
| He asked whoever he wanted |
| Whatever he picked up |
| I fought after |
| I laughed |
| With what I knew |
| There is nothing wrong with that |
| From this situation and |
| I looked at garlic |
| My love music is involved |
| When frogs shoot |
| Give me the right to be so old |
| Do not think I will give up |
| I'll continue |
| Even if I am arrested |
| Start Carimo |
| What can I say? |
| From the morning shift |
| Or from night shift? |
| Everyone is thinking of partying |
| I was thinking about rap and rock |
| There is no manti |
| I had friends |
| That I was writing |
| And I was cleaning |
| Understand me and |
| I understand one word |
| The toil of day and night |
| And low wages |
| But this is what the whole city knows |
| There are many |
| Get big from my arms |
| Yeah Al that sounds pretty crap to me, Looks like BT aint for me either |
| He wasted his money and came back |
| A tired door-to-door genius |
| His tongue is bitter |
| But his heart is on the picture |
| Yeah Al that sounds pretty crap to me, Looks like BT aint for me either |
| He wasted his money and came back |
| A tired door-to-door genius |
| His tongue is bitter |
| But his heart is on the picture |
| Everyone reached us |
| Quick asked |
| Come on soon |
| Stealing and stealing our albums |
| But they do not eat at any time |
| To our factor |
| Empty handed |
| We gave it to ourselves |
| We have forgotten to clean ourselves |
| We get dirty and nothing |
| Clear it |
| Ramon was so far away |
| And tired |
| It was as if we had arrived |
| To the tip of our own Alps |
| Each of my memories |
| A story |
| Antenna, my name is censorship |
| And Rosam Talisman |
| Hitting all comrades |
| In my name, in my sense |
| In every program, next |
| The roof is a part |
| No one saw your hangover |
| No one saw the corpse |
| But you want it again |
| Go somewhere that |
| You did not see |
| The ears of all |
| The answer is not heard |
| Everything else's eyes |
| Who saw |
| Hey, you shouted |
| Nothing heard |
| The days are passing |
| Another day will come |
| enough |
| Take it right |
| Yes, take it right |
| Yeah Al that sounds pretty crap to me, Looks like BT aint for me either |
| He wasted his money and came back |
| A tired door-to-door genius |
| His tongue is bitter |
| But his heart is on the picture |
| Yeah Al that sounds pretty crap to me, Looks like BT aint for me either |
| He wasted his money and came back |
| A tired door-to-door genius |
| His tongue is bitter |
| But his heart is on the picture |