Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Balls , by - QuirogaRelease date: 05.11.2006
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: Spanish
Balls(original) |
| Ball’s mi marrón te da el boom, ouh |
| Antes pa' la canina cañadú |
| Now cervezuki y el cielo es blue |
| Humo blanco en el autobús |
| De una niebla espesa salgo con el Quiroga |
| Yo y mi Opinel, cayendo neuronas |
| El quitapenas, que se le va a hacer |
| Por la mañana más mola, más pega |
| Sin máscaras ni Atrezzo |
| Como Snoop Dogg: «I'm the bezt my niggaz» |
| El gordo trae rap de peso, lo más fresco |
| Y esto viene de la M, por supuesto |
| Rezo por qué no me falte un canelo |
| Entra en mi esfera, únete a mi vuelo |
| El mundo sin miedo, con aliño extremo |
| Harte' uno gordo que nos enteremos |
| Uf, siente mi cala, de buen paladar |
| El mora’o se afinca in the West Side |
| Endulza el siguiente mai', smoke in the day |
| Red eyes, in tha motherfuckin' play |
| More shit for me |
| Humo blanco se asienta en mi, oh, oh |
| More shit for me, more shit for me |
| More shit for me |
| Humo blanco se asienta en mi, oh, oh |
| More shit for me, more shit for me |
| Te dejo grogui, more shit for me |
| Envuelto en la nube, hasta las eight in the morning |
| Fumando Chronic con el Karlanga |
| Game over, pelotazo, hierba y alobe |
| Botella fría, I love maría |
| Sticky-iky, sudores y alegría |
| De green machine, two fingers ya es mía |
| Un viaje a la tierra de la fantasía |
| Voy to' engloba’o en el sofá tira’o |
| No paro de darle desde que me he levanta’o |
| Los ceniceros los tengo to' petaos |
| Como Zatu, un Liricista en el teja’o |
| Tantos años pegándole al leño |
| Pellizco, lo prenso, trabajo bien hecho |
| Y confieso que depende como vaya salen torcí'os |
| Correctos, es mi quinto elemento, es cierto |
| Idas de olla como las de Jay y Bob |
| Miro mi peluco y pienso, préndelo |
| ¿Qué más da ya el pulmón? |
| Si llevo desde los doce dándole al trócolo |
| Nunca estoy solo, yo y mis porros |
| En cada bolo, ambienta mis coros |
| Deja paso al nene que viene el lobo |
| Saca fuego, postura, y córtalo |
| More shit for me |
| Humo blanco se asienta en mi, oh, oh |
| More shit for me, more shit for me |
| More shit for me |
| Humo blanco se asienta en mi, oh, oh |
| More shit for me, more shit for me |
| (translation) |
| Ball's my brown give you the boom, ouh |
| Before pa' la canina cañadú |
| Now cervezuki and the sky is blue |
| White smoke on the bus |
| From a thick fog I come out with Quiroga |
| Me and my Opinel, falling neurons |
| The sorrow remover, that she is going to do |
| In the morning more cool, more hits |
| No masks or props |
| As Snoop Dogg: "I'm the best my niggaz" |
| The fat one brings rap of weight, the freshest |
| And this comes from the M of course |
| I pray that I don't miss a cinnamon |
| Step into my sphere, join my flight |
| The world without fear, with extreme seasoning |
| Harte' a fat one that we find out |
| Uf, feel my cove, with a good palate |
| The mora'o settles in the West Side |
| Sweeten the next mai', smoke in the day |
| Red eyes, in tha motherfuckin' play |
| More shit for me |
| White smoke settles on me, oh, oh |
| More shit for me, more shit for me |
| More shit for me |
| White smoke settles on me, oh, oh |
| More shit for me, more shit for me |
| I leave you groggy, more shit for me |
| Wrapped in the cloud, until eight in the morning |
| Smoking Chronic with the Karlanga |
| Game over, pitch, grass and alobe |
| Cold bottle, I love Maria |
| Sticky-iky, sweats and joy |
| From green machine, two fingers is already mine |
| A trip to the land of fantasy |
| I'm going to 'engloba'o in the sofa tira'o |
| I don't stop giving it since I got up |
| I have all the ashtrays |
| Like Zatu, a lyricist in the roof |
| So many years hitting the log |
| I pinch it, I press it, job well done |
| And I confess that it depends on how it goes they come out crooked |
| Right, it's my fifth element, that's right |
| Idas de pot like Jay and Bob |
| I look at my wig and I think, turn it on |
| What else does the lung give? |
| If I have been giving the trocolo since I was twelve |
| I'm never alone, me and my joints |
| In each gig, set my choirs |
| Give way to the baby that comes the wolf |
| Draw fire, posture, and cut it |
| More shit for me |
| White smoke settles on me, oh, oh |
| More shit for me, more shit for me |
| More shit for me |
| White smoke settles on me, oh, oh |
| More shit for me, more shit for me |