Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Volver, artist - SFDK. Date of issue: 11.05.2017
Song language: Spanish
Volver(original) |
| Estoy rapeando en el Fun Club en el 97 |
| Ahí posiblemente tú llevaras chupete |
| Bibidi badibibu sin puerta en el retrete |
| Más que pa' la sala son palabras para el Pepe |
| Fuimos el Óscar y yo pa allí, mira mi maqueta |
| Y alquilonos la sala por 16 mil pesetas |
| Que entonces no era tanto y menuda jugarreta |
| Cuando viste la sala to completa |
| Y mi madre allí en la puerta llenando las maletas |
| Desde entonces mi grupo se respeta |
| Nunca habia visto pasta y esto nos dio una meta |
| Hay fotos mías forrando las carpetas |
| Con mi cara de tonto y fumandome algún peta |
| Óscar está detrás mientras escríbome esta letra |
| Mi tiempo, mis canas, mis vetas |
| Aprendí a escribir pero aun te hablo con la zeta |
| Por los 30 y otros 30 que nos quedan |
| Cuando algo dura es que no sopla velas |
| A modas pasajeras, año tras año y era tras era colega |
| Desde que el Alameda era droga y prostitución callejera |
| Volver a pisar esas tablas, si me llevan mis pies |
| Y volver a volver a volver |
| Volver a pisar esas tablas, si me llevan mis pies |
| Y volver a volver a volver |
| Lo poco que me corrompo por lo mucho que me exijo |
| Tu nos has visto crecer y nosotros ver crecer a tus hijos |
| Por la madre que me trajo |
| Por las leyes que me rijo |
| Yo nunca quise un trabajo a sueldo fijo |
| Mirarse mas al espejo un viejo me lo dijo |
| No es un acertijo |
| Es dar cobijo a quien te da cobijo |
| Perdona que no arpegie, me equivoco y me corrijo |
| Que alivio |
| Triana, Raimundo Amador o Silvio |
| Y un intento de cantante con un estribillo rana al final te lo silbo |
| Puesto de critica al bilbo |
| Porque el tiempo no puede matar lo que se hace con ganas |
| Y yo me niego a pensar que me levanto una mañana |
| Y ya no sirvo |
| Por eso he escrito algunos libros |
| Pero de cagar suelto no me libro |
| Cuando viví en el centro y entraba a tu sala de madrugada |
| Pa' esquivar los palos de los polis porque el PP mandaba |
| Cuando mi arte es hobbie |
| Remuevo el alma |
| Y hago parrafadas que alejan tu vista del movil |
| Son los gajes del oficio, vaya vicio pa' un panoli |
| Curro y sacrificio |
| Tinta en la piel pa' rellenarte un boli |
| El Fun Club entre su mucha decoración |
| Fotos mías de muchacho con un chándal de charol |
| Los vecinos sobre el techo llamando a la pestañí |
| Si un día te deshaces de esto Pepe, véndemelo a mí |
| Volver a pisar esas tablas, si me llevan mis pies |
| Y volver a volver a volver |
| Volver a pisar esas tablas, si me llevan mis pies |
| Y volver a volver a volver |
| Volver a pisar esas tablas, si me llevan mis pies |
| Y volver a volver a volver |
| Volver a pisar esas tablas, si me llevan mis pies |
| Y volver a volver a volver |
| (translation) |
| I'm rapping at the Fun Club in '97 |
| There possibly you will take a pacifier |
| Bibidi badibibu no door in the toilet |
| More than for the room they are words for Pepe |
| We went to the Oscar and I went there, look at my model |
| And we rent the room for 16 thousand pesetas |
| That then it wasn't so much and what a trick |
| When you saw the whole room |
| And my mother there at the door packing the bags |
| Since then my group respects each other |
| I had never seen pasta and this gave us a goal |
| There are photos of me lining the folders |
| With my silly face and smoking some stone |
| Óscar is behind while I write this letter |
| My time, my gray hair, my streaks |
| I learned to write but I still talk to you with the zeta |
| For the 30 and another 30 that we have left |
| When something lasts, it's because it doesn't blow out candles |
| A passing fad, year after year and era after era colleague |
| Since the Alameda was drugs and street prostitution |
| Stepping on those boards again, if my feet take me |
| And come back again |
| Stepping on those boards again, if my feet take me |
| And come back again |
| How little I corrupt myself by how much I demand of myself |
| You have seen us grow and we have seen your children grow |
| For the mother who brought me |
| By the laws that I abide by |
| I never wanted a fixed salary job |
| Look more in the mirror an old man told me |
| It's not a riddle |
| It is giving shelter to whoever gives you shelter |
| Sorry for not arpeggiating, I'm wrong and I correct myself |
| What a relief |
| Triana, Raimundo Amador or Silvio |
| And an attempt at a singer with a frog chorus at the end I whistle it to you |
| Post of criticism to the bilbo |
| Because time cannot kill what is done with desire |
| And I refuse to think that I wake up one morning |
| And I no longer serve |
| That's why I've written some books |
| But I don't get rid of loose shit |
| When I lived downtown and walked into your room at dawn |
| To dodge the cops' sticks because the PP was in charge |
| When my art is a hobby |
| I remove the soul |
| And I make parafadas that take your eyes away from the mobile |
| They are the hazards of the trade, what a vice for a panoli |
| Curro and sacrifice |
| Ink on the skin to fill you in a pen |
| The Fun Club among its many decorations |
| Pictures of me as a boy in a patent leather tracksuit |
| The neighbors on the roof calling the tabañí |
| If one day you get rid of this Pepe, sell it to me |
| Stepping on those boards again, if my feet take me |
| And come back again |
| Stepping on those boards again, if my feet take me |
| And come back again |
| Stepping on those boards again, if my feet take me |
| And come back again |
| Stepping on those boards again, if my feet take me |
| And come back again |