![Mrka Kapa - Who See, Timbe, Majki P](https://cdn.muztext.com/i/32847569154673925347.jpg)
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… |