Lyrics of Mrka Kapa - Who See, Timbe, Majki P

Mrka Kapa - Who See, Timbe, Majki P
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Mrka Kapa, artist - Who See.
Date of issue: 31.07.2014
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: Croatian

Mrka Kapa

(original)
Došli dani zajebani, masu para kad treba mi
Niko nema, svi sjebani, investitori krepali
Neki utekli, pobjegli, uštekali što su stekli
Neki se dobro opekli, a što čine Nojz i Kendi
Dalje se svira kurcu po Suncu, pa pa’ne vers
Snimimo kad ima keša, no smo uglavnom bez
Trpimo, trpimo, sve dok se opet ne skrpimo
A nekad nas neće, pa da sve na glavu dubimo
Hipiti-hopiti na taj mikrofon prdimo
Bez neke dobiti, al bar ništa ne gubimo
Nema veće banje no kad pokažu nam poštovanje
Kad kažu da znamo znanje i da rep nam nije sranje
No isto je vrijeme krajnje da nam zvecne koji cent
Koji dug da se vrati, da se plati producent
Čovek sam od mesa i krvi, što hedove iz kesa mrvi
15. već nemam para, a smara me da čekam 1
Nema leba od repa, ipak mikrofon uštekam
Da ne zvučim ko krepan, vers dobro izvježban
Ali isti je efekat jer na poslu 8 sati sekam
Ko blesav i njesra kad vidim dje sam
Mislio sam nekad da će da pane koja keka
Da se kupi nova Mečka od hiljada dvjesta
Pa da obilazim mjesta, no ću još pričekat
Pasala tries i neka i Bog zna koja sveska
Aha… ali šteta, nisam ti ja gengsta
Rabota teška, ma mi neće nikad presrat
I nije greška kad kažem neću prestat
Ili jebeš ga, staću kad budem prestar
Uze mi vers iz usta, stvarno ovaj prljav rep
Jebem… mrka kapa… sve je to krvav leb
Postajem grbav jer nosim emsijeve na krkačama
Rmbačim, teglim scenu na grbači
I ja bi da diram sisu, jedem tiramisu
Al idem žedan preko vode ko dehidriran Isus
Drže me na cedilu, sudbina je surova
Nekom je život majka, meni zli očuh surogat
Nema nastupa, zevam… hrčem il dremam
Gladan para i slave, krče mi creva
Crnčim, grče mi se rebra, postajem sedokos
Imam staračke pege, samački krevet ko Šerlok Holms
Nema Dr.
Watson-a, samo tužna violina
I sećanje na dane kad sam bio lima
Želje da jebem, da pijem i da ždernjam
A ne da se vucaram ko pijani daždevnjak
Aaaa, zvao me je Kendi
Da dodjem do studija da gostujem na pesmi
Aaaa, zašto Kendi, zašto?
Da sa’ranim si rep karijeru, dodaj ašov
Aaaa, napravi bit, snimaj
Cimaš se, cimaš ljude al koga briga
Kači na YouTube da ljudi klikću
Al neće kupe album i sve u pičku
Neće na cert ako nisu na spisku
Sećam se dana kad smo upali u priču
Tripovali binu i ljudi ruke dižu
A sad radimo za bedža, kao da smo piglu
Rekao sam Kendiju da ne mogu djemdo
Jer je studio u gradu, a nemam za prevoz
A gled’o sam na vestima kad bane kontrola
Oduzme ti pasoš i nabije na kolac
Džukci na traci, mi vuci samotnjaci
Imam gomilu bajatih redova, žao mi da bacim
Ja dižem kraci, i ako mi se nisi dopao
Izdavač kaže: «svaki tvoj tekst je piši propalo»
Deo sam prostog sveta, to mi prosto smeta
Ost’o jebivetar i linjam se još od prošlog leta
Razbole se lisica pa suši se ko grana
A niko neće sa mnom, samo crni gavran
Da, promeniću svet i sve probleme od pre
Da radim rep ko pos’o od 9 do 5
Da se gledam na ekranu, ne da repam za hranu
Stomak nemam zbog čega mi posle ždrela ide anus
Smotam srce u bandanu najvećem fanu
Kad ponude record deal rećiću im da sam ganut
Da se manu ćorava posla, ti si obrala bostan uz mene
Ja sam na zemlju poslat, tebre, da džonjam i oštrim pendrek
Reperski poziv me tera da spustim slušalicu
Osim kad pustim bit — tad bušim uši s bušilicu
Jer ovaj Sizifov pos’o iziskuje Tantalove muke…
Bolje da čistimo korzo kad su nam već pantalone duge…
I široke, a mlad ko goran oću u ruke volan od Cherokee
Ne tatkov, nego Bokijev!
Pa čekam neki ček ko Halejevu kometu
Dok sudba mi čekićem lupa ko Džeki Čen Ahilovu petu
I hvatam sebe kako gledam PETU ko metu
Životinje nose krzno, ja nemam ni za petu Corvette-u…
I jebem ti ovaj život — kurvetinu bez mašte!
Kad onaj takši i mekši taloži bakšiše u tašne
I čim se naložim i preteram s rime
Preteram ugalj ili tutanj na bauštel, lakše je
Iz ove perspektive…
(translation)
The fucking days have come, a lot of money when I need it
No one, all fucked up, investors were dying
Some fled, fled, made up for what they had gained
Some got burned well, which is what Noise and Candy do
He continues to play with his dick in the sun, so pa’ne vers
We record when there is cash, but we are mostly without
We suffer, we suffer, until we recover again
And sometimes they don't want us, so let's dig everything into our heads
Hippies-hops on that microphone fart
No profit, but at least we don't lose anything
There is no bigger spa than when they show us respect
When they say we know knowledge and that tail is not bullshit to us
But at the same time, it's high time we heard a few cents
What debt to repay, to pay the producer
I am a man of flesh and blood, which kills the heads from the bag
15. I don't have money anymore, and I'm tired of waiting for 1
There's no beetroot bread, but I plug the mic
Not to sound like a dilapidated, well-trained vers
But the effect is the same because I work 8 hours at work
Who is silly and angry when I see where I am
I used to think that a cake would burn
To buy a new Bear of one thousand two hundred
So let me go around the places, but I'll wait
Pasala tries and let God know which notebook
Yeah, but it's a shame, I'm not your gang
Hard work, it will never bother me
And it's not a mistake to say I won't stop
Or fuck it, I'll stop when I'm too old
He took the verse from my mouth, really this dirty tail
Fuck… dark hat… it's all bloody bread
I get hunchbacked because I wear ems on my legs
Rmbačim, dragging the scene on the hump
And I would like to touch the breast, eat tiramisu
But I go thirsty across the water like a dehydrated Jesus
They keep me in the lurch, fate is cruel
For some, life is a mother, for me an evil stepfather is a surrogate
No performance, yawning… snoring or napping
Hungry for money and glory, my intestines are cramping
I turn black, my ribs twitch, I become gray-haired
I have age spots, a single bed like Sherlock Holmes
No Dr.
Watson, just a sad violin
And the memory of the days when I was a lima
I want to fuck, drink and eat
Not to crawl like a drunken salamander
Aaaa, Candy called me
To come to the studio to be a guest on the song
Aaaa, why Candy, why?
To save my rap career, add ash
Aaaa, make a bit, record
You tease, you tease people, but who cares
Upload to YouTube for people to click
But they won't buy an album and everything in the cunt
They won't be on the list if they're not on the list
I remember the day we got into the story
They tripped the stage and people raised their hands
And now we work for the badge, as if we were a pig
I told Candy I couldn't djemdo
Because the studio is in town, and I don't have transportation
And I watched the news when it took control
He takes your passport and impales you
Dzukki on the lane, we pull loners
I have a bunch of stale lines, sorry to throw
I raise my arms, even if I don't like you
The publisher says: "every text you write is a failure"
I'm part of the simple world, it just bothers me
I've been fucking around since last summer
The fox got sick and dried like a branch
And no one will come with me, only a black raven
Yes, I will change the world and all the problems from before
To do a tail job from 9 to 5
To look at myself on the screen, not to rap for food
I don't have a stomach, which is why my anus goes after my throat
I roll my heart in a bandana to the biggest fan
When they offer a record deal I will tell them I am moved
To get the job done, you picked a watermelon with me
I was sent to earth, you bastard, to jog and sharpen a truncheon
The rapper's call makes me hang up
Except when I let go of the bit - then I pierce my ears with a drill
Because this work of Sisyphus requires Tantalus' torments…
It is better to clean the promenade when our pants are already long…
And wide, and young like a goran, I want to drive a Cherokee
Not dads, but Boki's!
So I'm waiting for a check like Halley's Comet
While fate strikes me with a hammer like Jackie Chan's Achilles' heel
And I catch myself looking at FIFTH like a target
Animals wear fur, I don't even have a heel for a Corvette…
And fuck this life - a whore without imagination!
When the one who is softer and softer settles tips in bags
And as soon as I order and overdo it with the rhyme
I exaggerate coal or rumble on a construction site, it's easier
From this perspective…
Translation rating: 5/5 | Votes: 1

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