Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song La Hora del Matarife, artist - SFDK. Date of issue: 20.03.2007
Song language: Spanish
La Hora del Matarife(original) |
| Por ahi va, con los cristales tintados |
| haciendo drival, reflejos de mis balas en tus Rayban |
| atento siempre a los retrovisores |
| son 50 puntos en los peatones, 100 los conductores |
| El coche es una jai-va, paso por una esquina llena vainas |
| y ahi va, la convierto en una sauna |
| no dejo rastro en la recamara, el gatillo se encasquillara |
| si lo no le saco brillo a toas mis silabas, |
| y amaina, si pongo a bailar a la fauna |
| y aun hay mas semaforos en rojo sebrando el trauma |
| miro de reojo a la acera, blanco facil |
| encajo plomo en las maneras, de aquella peña rociera |
| ahora, los altavoces de mi coche sangran |
| mande? |
| me quedan 10 canciones en la manga |
| estres en las bambas con la esperanza del semaforo en ambar, nena |
| y un tirachinas hecho con tu tanga |
| miro en el Burger King si veo civiles |
| y rayban, por ahi van verdes como reptiles |
| voraces y viles, no escupo frases, disparo misiles |
| corre ve y diles, que ha llegado el Matarilee… |
| Ahi vaa, con 10 o 12 pulgadas de raap |
| Ahi vaa, deja que el grave escape por detras |
| Ahi vaa, solo hay una oportunidad si suenaa… |
| Ahi vaa pongo una bala en la caja del track |
| Ahi vaa, se ruega no molestar, si suenaa. |
| Ahi vaa, solo hay una oportunidad, llanta |
| Mi pistola baja la ventanilla diciendote hola |
| circulo a 10 kilometros por hora |
| no conduzco un BMW tio, conduzco una apisonadora |
| con balas de fogueo, de pintura y bolas |
| Arranco una farola |
| las consecuencias de fumar y mezclar el ron con Coca Cola |
| pienso en la carcel ahora |
| vomito el miedo por la ventanilla, HELP FROM SEVILLA! |
| mala semilla me devoraa |
| impacto, rompo unos contenedores, al primer disparo |
| tira en la cabeza a los veladores |
| no lo tienen claro, empiezan los temblores |
| y se ofenden si disparo, claro, mi musica no es pa menores. |
| Piso fondo, suben las revoluciones |
| llevo al Ché bajo el asiento y mi acento en todas las canciones |
| si estan muy lejos no se escapan, les alcanzo con mi rifle |
| la hora del Matarifeee… |
| Ahi vaa, con 10 o 12 pulgadas de raap |
| Ahi vaa, deja que el grave escape por detras |
| Ahi vaa, solo hay una oportunidad si suenaa… |
| Ahi vaa pongo una bala en la caja del track |
| Ahi vaa, se ruega no molestar, si suenaa. |
| Ahi vaa, solo hay una oportunidad, llanta |
| (translation) |
| There it goes, with tinted windows |
| doing drival, reflections of my bullets in your Rayban |
| always pay attention to the mirrors |
| 50 points for pedestrians, 100 for drivers |
| The car is a jai-va, I pass a corner full of pods |
| and there it goes, I turn it into a sauna |
| I left no trace in the breech, the trigger will jam |
| If I don't polish all my syllables, |
| and it subsides, if I make the fauna dance |
| and there are even more red lights spreading the trauma |
| I look out of the corner of my eye at the sidewalk, easy target |
| I fit lead in the manners, of that rock of the rociera |
| now my car speakers bleed |
| What? |
| I have 10 songs left up my sleeve |
| stress in the sneakers with the hope of the traffic light in amber, baby |
| and a slingshot made with your thong |
| I look in the Burger King if I see civilians |
| and rayban, there they go green like reptiles |
| voracious and vile, I don't spit phrases, I shoot missiles |
| run, go and tell them, the Matarilee has arrived... |
| There goes, with 10 or 12 inches of raap |
| There goes, let the bass escape from the back |
| There goes, there is only one chance if it sounds… |
| There I go I put a bullet in the box of the track |
| There goes, please do not disturb, if it rings. |
| There goes, there is only one chance, tire |
| My gun rolls down the window telling you hello |
| circle at 10 kilometers per hour |
| I don't drive a BMW man, I drive a steamroller |
| with blank bullets, paint bullets and balls |
| I pull out a lamppost |
| the consequences of smoking and mixing rum with Coca Cola |
| I think of jail now |
| I vomit fear out the window, HELP FROM SEVILLA! |
| bad seed devours me |
| impact, I break some containers, at the first shot |
| shoot the watchmen in the head |
| they are not clear, the tremors begin |
| and they get offended if I shoot, of course, my music is not for minors. |
| Bottom floor, revs up |
| I take Ché under the seat and my accent in all the songs |
| if they are too far away they don't escape, I hit them with my rifle |
| the hour of the Matarifeee… |
| There goes, with 10 or 12 inches of raap |
| There goes, let the bass escape from the back |
| There goes, there is only one chance if it sounds… |
| There I go I put a bullet in the box of the track |
| There goes, please do not disturb, if it rings. |
| There goes, there is only one chance, tire |