Translation of the song lyrics La olla - Bacilos

La olla (original)

A estrellas y a reyes les gusta el perico
Y toda la culpa es de un colombiano rico
Nos tratan cual bestias en los aeropuertos
Como si no fueran nuestros tantos muertos
Las leyes son leyes p’al que las escribe
Por que ellos escogen bien lo que prohiben
Pero en callejones, palcos y balcones
La ley se hace humo, rayas y colores
A algunos les gusta temprano en la mañana
Y a otros les gusta gozarcela en la cama
Y otros nos toca nacer en la mitad
De la batalla
Nacimos en la o o o o oolla
A estrellas y a reyes les gusta el perico
Pero ellos son los heroes del mundo rico
Por eso en las aduanas me toca a mi pagar
Por su delito
A quien le gusta vivir, con esta paranoia me toca a mi
Mi parte de la historia porqué nací, nacimos en la olla
La máquina sonó, el tipo me miró
El perro de la aduana tiene cara de cabron
Y yo solo quiero que me dejen llegar a mi casa
Nacimos en la o o o o o oolla
A quien le gusta vivir con esta paranoia me toca a mi
Mi parte de la historia porque nací, nacimos en la olla…
Stars and piliticians enjoy cocaine
And of course its my people the one to blame
They treat us like animals in every airport
As if were not us putting the muertos
Some people like it early in the morning
Some other like it when the bass is pumping
And some of us are born
In the middle of the bombing

La olla (translation)

Stars and kings like parakeet
And it's all the fault of a rich Colombian
They treat us like beasts in airports
As if they were not our many dead
The laws are laws for the one who writes them
Because they choose well what they prohibit
But in alleys, boxes and balconies
The law becomes smoke, stripes and colors
Some like it early in the morning
And others like to enjoy it in bed
And others of us have to be born in the middle
of the battle
We were born in the o o o o oola
Stars and kings like parakeet
But they are the heroes of the rich world
That's why at customs it's my turn to pay
for his crime
Who likes to live, with this paranoia it's my turn
My part of the story why I was born, we were born in the pot
The machine rang, the guy looked at me
The customs dog has the face of a bastard
And I just want them to let me get home
We were born in the o o o o o oola
Who likes to live with this paranoia, it's my turn
My part of the story because I was born, we were born in the pot…
Stars and piliticians enjoy cocaine
And of course its my people the one to blame
They treat us like animals in every airport
As if we were not putting the dead
Some people like it early in the morning
Some other like it when the bass is pumping
And some of us are born
In the middle of the bombing