Lyrics of Ode til Jante - Rapublik1, Nota Bene, Yogi

Ode til Jante - Rapublik1, Nota Bene, Yogi
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Ode til Jante, artist - Rapublik1
Date of issue: 11.03.2015
Song language: Danish

Ode til Jante

(original)
Jeg vælter ind af døren med min usynlige homie
Ham du gir' skylden hver gang du gør noget tåbeligt
Uforståeligt for du kender ham ik'
Men du råber hans navn når folk hater dit shit
Sæt dig ned og læs lille gut homie
Havde din ryg før du blev berømt på fæcesbook
Der' ingen tænder i det, dine læber kan sut men ik' spyt'
Så du drukner mens jeg kvæler min sut
Det' helt dødt, så mange crews der padler i det
Med bind for øjnene, leder efter dadler i det
De finder tøjter, og tøjter matcher løgne
Men bitch, er nu virkeligheden smasker det med løgne
Sig min mening er pisse smålig, din ting gør mig svimmel og groggy
Så forsvind fra scenen og find en hobby
For når jeg siger du ik' leverer shit med hold i
Er det ik' jantelovens skyld, nej du' bare decideret dårlig
Og pulsen pumper når jeg tænker på dit crew og stikker nåle i voodoo dukker
Splitter dem i tusind stumper
I' mindre værd en den ju i puffer
Så publikummer jubler når i skal sluge gule stråler fra min super soaker
Jeg' langt fra troende
Men kan du hverken rap' eller ramme en tone ber' jeg til du stiller træskoene
Fuck om du' bodybuilder eller holder folk som gidsler
Skills er skills og janteloven er et sjoller filter
Vi hører kun dine tracks efter 12 om natten når du sover
Mens vi messer jantes regler og vores øjne ruller bagover
Så bare stempel os som de vildeste hater
Vi hader alligevel din stil så meget at vi har beef med dine forældre
For at rose dig til skyerne og sige de syns' du go', de' syge i hovedet
Giggi Freddie Petersen syndrom
Og det' ik' jantelovens skyld at du mangler talent
Så hvorfor rende og skrige fuck den, når du bare skal holde kæft
Og pakke sammen, finde en anden interesse eller gesjæft
Du kunne jo bli' Mohammed tegner og bosætte dig i Marakech
For det' ik' sørgeligt hvis en sjoller slår sig selv ihjel forsætteligt
Jeg vil hellere kalde det selv indsigt, vi mennesker er jo så forskellige
Du tror du' speciel og har et kæmpe rap talent
Vil gerne anerkendes af mængden, afhængig af accept
På nettet spiller du smart og fortæller du er bedst
Men kæfter op så snart du ik' får den forventede respekt
En tosse der længes efter fame og sælger sin sjæl
Altid selvtægt, men iscenesætter sig selv
Råber op om janteloven, tror folk er naive
Men den findes ik', fat det dog og stop med at pive
Det' kun dig selv der kæmper for at holde den i live
Og du har ingen hæmninger som kællinger der' Roskilde stive
Du' en del af Danmarks vildeste sjoller kollektiv
Og et skræmmende bevis på hvor fucked up man kan blive
Du' en forkælet prick der sjældent kigger ud over egen næsetip
Selvsikker på du nok skal bli' et kæmpehit
Fortæller samtlige mennesker på din venneliste
Hvordan de burde tjek' fordi dit næste shit bliver mesterligt
Du har det sygeste flow, homie blæs en spliff
Noget tyder på du lyver for dig selv for tit
Shit, du ejer hverken skills eller selv indsigt
Og både din mor og far sku' burres inde for forældre svigt
Drømmer om en trendy crib, lækre chicks med fake tits
Gæste feats og læssevis af sedler til din pengeklips
Hvis jeg var ligeså wack som dig, så ville jeg dæmpe mig lidt
(translation)
I knock in the door with my invisible homie
Him you blame 'every time you do something stupid
Incomprehensible because you do not know him '
But you shout his name when people hate your shit
Sit down and read little gut homie
Had your back before you became famous on the stool book
There 'no teeth in it, your lips can suck but do not' spit '
So you drown while I suffocate my pacifier
It's completely dead, so many crews paddling in it
Blindfolded, looking for dates in it
They find clothes, and clothes match lies
But bitch, now reality is smacking it with lies
Say my opinion is piss petty, your thing makes me dizzy and groggy
So disappear from the stage and find a hobby
Because when I say you do not deliver shit with hold in
Is it not the fault of the Jante law, no you 'just decidedly bad
And the pulse pumps when I think of your crew and sticking needles in voodoo dolls
Divide them into a thousand pieces
I 'less worth a den ju in puffer
So the audience cheers when you have to swallow yellow rays from my super soaker
I'm far from a believer
But if you can neither rap nor hit a note, I beg you to put on your clogs
Fuck if you're a bodybuilder or holding people hostage
Skills are skills and Janteloven is a fun filter
We only hear your tracks after 12 at night when you sleep
While we mess jante's rules and our eyes roll backwards
So just label us as the wildest haters
We still hate your style so much that we have beef with your parents
To praise you to the clouds and say they think 'you go', the 'sick in the head
Giggi Freddie Petersen syndrome
And it's 'not' the fault of the Jante law that you lack talent
So why run and scream fuck it when you just have to shut up
And pack up, find another interest or business
You could become a Mohammed artist and settle in Marakech
For it 'ik' sad if a sjoller kills himself intentionally
I would rather call it self-insight, we humans are so different
You think you 'special and have a huge rap talent
Would like to be recognized by the crowd, depending on acceptance
On the net, you play smart and tell you are the best
But shut up as soon as you do not get the expected respect
A fool who longs for fame and sells his soul
Always suicidal, but staging himself
Shouting about the law of the roost, people think they are naive
But it does not exist, grab it and stop whining
It's only you who fight to keep it alive
And you have no inhibitions like bitches who 'Roskilde stiff
You're part of Denmark's wildest dinghies collective
And a scary proof of how fucked up one can get
You're a spoiled prick who rarely looks beyond his own nose tip
Confident you'll probably be a huge hit
Tells all the people on your friends list
How they should check 'because your next shit will be masterful
You have the sickest flow, homie blows a spliff
Something suggests you are lying to yourself too often
Shit, you possess neither skills nor even insight
And both your mom and dad sku 'burres in the face of parental failure
Dreaming of a trendy crib, delicious chicks with fake tits
Guest feats and loads of notes for your money clip
If I was as wack as you, then I would calm down a bit
Translation rating: 5/5 | Votes: 1

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Artist lyrics: Nota Bene
Artist lyrics: Yogi