Lyrics of Quelle Notti - Noyz Narcos

Quelle Notti - Noyz Narcos
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Quelle Notti, artist - Noyz Narcos. Album song Verano Zombie, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 31.12.2006
Record label: Universal Music Italia
Song language: Italian

Quelle Notti

(original)
Ho i gomiti al bancone quelle notti
Tra i bicchieri rotti
Mischio un cocktail, con cui e' meglio se non fotti
Ritorni a casa coi cerotti ai polsi e i morsi in faccia
Sto sulla traccia
Finchè la linea verde è piatta
Oh
Il trick è ammazzati o ammazza la noia
Ho il sangue sul ring, chiama il clique truce boia
No bling qua, no acqua il mio distillato
Mi tiene a un metro dall’asfalto e il culo parato
Sto fuori moda, fuori forma e c’ho le corna dure
L’ombra delle forze oscure deforma figure
Guarda in faccia il boia incapucciato con la scure
Guarda un ascia che divide la tua faccia in due
Il crew pattuglia e fa un massacro come a falluja
Suda sugna
Seguo il drago in una fogna buia
Ronda notturna
Porto cenere nell’urna
Senti le mie urla
Datti nella notte per la strada buia
Mischia ingegno e ottieni geni gretti
Serpi dai veleni infetti
Vuoi problemi?
Siamo pieni zeppi
Lo scrivo con l’inchiostro e con il sangue nella carne
Perché tu possa parlarne
Di te non so che farne
Voglio un bossolo dentro al cervello del gendarme
Il nostro germe nel tuo sangue e banche senza allarme
Check it out
Secco l’ultimo boy scout rimasto nell’accampamento
Bosco nero, cimitero a fuoco spento
Eo, zombi sanguinario
Cerca Noyz e trovi rogna sul vocabolario a casa in carro mortuario
Truce click clack
Chiude a tre mandate
Nella case nelle strade co' sta roba
Voi vi ci fate i bracci
Nel tuo appartamento un branco di selvaggi fanno scempio
Del palazzo ottocentesco al centro
Falco della notte
Sveglio a mezzanotte e mezza
Il cuore mi si spezza ho un sercio sopra al parabrezza
Disprezza me come io disprezzo i preti
Pensa a una presenza che non vedi
Truceboys rock steady
«Brutti pezzi di mmerda questo e' il truceklan, andatevene affanculo»
Ho i gomiti al bancone quelle notti
Tra i bicchieri rotti
Mischio un cocktail, con cui e' meglio se non fotti
Ritorni a casa coi cerotti ai polsi e i morsi in facciaì
Sto sulla traccia
Finchè la linea verde è piatta
(translation)
I got my elbows on the counter those nights
Among the broken glasses
I mix a cocktail, which is better if you don't fuck
You come home with band-aids on your wrists and bites on your face
I'm on the track
As long as the green line is flat
Oh
The trick is killed or boredom
I have blood in the ring, call the clique grim executioner
No bling here, no water my distillate
He keeps me a meter from the asphalt and my ass parried
I'm out of style, out of shape and I have hard horns
The shadow of the dark forces deforms figures
Look at the hooded executioner with the ax in the face
Look at an ax that splits your face in two
The crew patrols and massacres like a falluja
Sweat suet
I follow the dragon into a dark sewer
Night watch
I bring ashes in the urn
Hear my screams
Give yourself in the night for the dark street
Mix wits and get narrow geniuses
Snakes with infected poisons
Do you want problems?
We are packed full
I write it with ink and blood in my flesh
So that you can talk about it
I don't know what to do with you
I want a shell inside the gendarme's brain
Our germ in your blood and banks without alarm
Check it out
Dry the last boy scout left in the camp
Black forest, fire extinguished cemetery
Eo, bloodthirsty zombie
Look for Noyz and find mange on the vocabulary at home in the mortuary wagon
Grim click clack
Closes in three turns
In the houses in the streets there is stuff
You make us arms
In your apartment, a bunch of savages wreak havoc
Of the nineteenth-century building in the center
Hawk of the night
Awake at half past midnight
My heart breaks I have a sercio above the windshield
He despises me as I despise priests
Think of a presence you don't see
Truceboys rock steady
"Bad bits of shit this is the truceklan, fuck off"
I got my elbows on the counter those nights
Among the broken glasses
I mix a cocktail, which is better if you don't fuck
You come home with band-aids on your wrists and bites on your face
I'm on the track
As long as the green line is flat
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Artist lyrics: Noyz Narcos