
Date of issue: 14.08.2017
Song language: Spanish
Clouds(original) |
Quiero morder el sol, como las polillas |
Estoy dando vueltas bajo la bombilla |
Me guardo el humo tras las costillas (Yeah) |
Si toco madera me clavo astillas (¡Me clavo astillas!) |
Vida doblada como un croché (¡Woo!) |
Estoy tan en las nubes que ni me ves |
Slow living, nos cansamos de correr |
Limpiate los pies si te subes a mi nave |
Mis negros lo bailan al back del foco (¡Uh!) |
Házmelo bonito, poco a poco |
Soy bueno para el coco, como un sudoku |
Vuelo en una nube, como Goku, ¡Fuck you! |
Gira la esfera, haciendo fuego, nueva era |
Distinta mierda, mismos problemas |
Me está robando sueños la cafetera |
El tiempo se me acaba y yo detrás de las palmeras |
Slow Life en el lomo, mis monos andando por las ramas |
Ficha mi humo en slow-mo |
Volando en cada fotograma |
Toco el techo, sí, caída libre hacia la cama |
Check it out (Check it out, check it out) |
Check-, check it out (Check it out, check it out) |
Check it out (Check it out, check it out) |
Check-, check it out (Check it out, check it out) |
Check-, check it out (Check it out, check it out) |
¡Yo, flotalo chulo! |
En tensión continua, como ese hilo |
Cuando me deprimo me las miro |
Aislado en lados oscuros, busco mi sitio, boa |
Mi bigote niggi, mi pelo Dominic |
Cuido de mis negros, como Puff Daddy |
Oh shit, envejecer en su culo |
Que te incomode si me ves de lado |
Y yo trabajando en el bajo, para dejarlo todo más claro |
Hecho a mano, como Cráneo, boa, boa |
Barbaridades en el cuarto |
Movimientos como guanteando |
¡Rápido, más rápido! |
Mi casa, fruta en el cacharro |
Los dedos pegados, veo perfiles en caras de dardos |
Tumbado, tumbado, boa |
Solo yo y mis cuatro seguimos volando, boa, boa |
(translation) |
I want to bite the sun, like moths |
I'm spinning under the light bulb |
I keep the smoke behind my ribs (Yeah) |
If I touch wood I get splinters (I get splinters!) |
Life folded like a crochet (Woo!) |
I'm so in the clouds that you don't even see me |
Slow living, we get tired of running |
Clean your feet if you get on my ship |
My blacks dance it to the back of the spotlight (Uh!) |
Make me pretty, little by little |
I'm good at coconut, like a sudoku |
I fly on a cloud, like Goku, Fuck you! |
Spin the sphere, making fire, new age |
Different shit, same problems |
The coffee maker is stealing my dreams |
Time is running out and I am behind the palm trees |
Slow Life on the back, my monkeys beating around the bush |
Record my smoke in slow-mo |
Flying in every frame |
Hit the ceiling, yeah, free fall to the bed |
Check it out (Check it out, check it out) |
Check-, check it out (Check it out, check it out) |
Check it out (Check it out, check it out) |
Check-, check it out (Check it out, check it out) |
Check-, check it out (Check it out, check it out) |
Yo, float it cool! |
In continuous tension, like that thread |
When I get depressed I look at them |
Isolated in dark sides, I seek my place, boa |
My niggi mustache, my Dominic hair |
I take care of my blacks, like Puff Daddy |
Oh shit, getting old on her ass |
That bothers you if you see me from the side |
And me working on the bass, to make everything clearer |
Handmade, like Skull, boa, boa |
Outrageous in the room |
Movements like glove |
Fast more fast! |
My house, fruit in the pot |
Fingers stuck together, I see profiles in dart faces |
Lying down, lying down, boa |
Only me and my four keep flying, boa, boa |