Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Drabant, artist - Jesse JonesDate of issue: 30.11.2008
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: Norwegian
Drabant(original) |
| Je-Jesse Jones, jeg kommer fra Drabantbyen |
| Ber dem sette seg på livet mitt er vanskelig |
| Velkommen til Oslo shit, det skjer i hovedstaden |
| Feite biler og dop til lille Groruddalen |
| Den her går ut til alle de som pusher pakker |
| Jesse Jones han er kriminell svarting |
| Jeg er mitt Ken Ring, jeg er kjenning, jeg er spenning |
| Hip-Hop i Oslo den tar en annen vending, helt annen tenning |
| Vi er på andre tanker |
| Gjør det her for de som henger i Drabantbyen |
| Svart hette, svarte hansker |
| Ber dem sette seg på livet mitt er vanskelig |
| En ting som vi sier er for alltid |
| Knull politi, gjør penger og ta sjanser |
| Har det de trenger, har det som fenger |
| Men vi klakker, det er penga som snakker |
| Det er Jesse, du kjenner meg fra traktene |
| De er ikke vant med drabanstilen som jeg brakte med |
| Hva faen |
| Faen, ærre du? |
| Jeg trodde det var snut, jeg |
| Öppna dörren, det är Ken Ring |
| Jag lever livet med husslandet som instinkt |
| Så jävla skönt att en till har kommit in |
| Hela Oslo, stanna upp, stå still |
| Det är farligt, du bränner fingertopparna |
| Laddar hela natten, åker hem och käkar ropparna |
| Betongblock, runt om där jag bor |
| Nu kom dom, fuck alla andra bror |
| Mitt i Stovner, jag ligger där och snurrar |
| I en splitter ny bil med Jesse Jones och bara flummar |
| Pundar undan det innbringar laxingar, backa bort när du ser dessa svartingar |
| Stänger av beatet for att röka mitt weed… ni vet hur det går till! |
| On the average night, I’m likely to stab a fag with a knife |
| That’s when I’m chilling, imagine when I’m mad what it’s like |
| Damn right it’s a disasterous sight |
| Why you think I’ve been in prison more than half of my life (my life) |
| Wolves, bloods and crips, duckin' the digs |
| We don’t like basketball, but still fuck with the knicks |
| Dimes, twenties, fifties and bricks |
| Summer art though, if the bitch need a fix, it’s triple the tips |
| Do whatever it takes, the fakes, I can never relate |
| Ya’ll can chill as long as my cheddar is straight |
| But if I’m broke, shit, I’mma load the beretta with eight |
| Show y’all niggas my gun game is better than great |
| Little crack baby, ignorant son of a black lady |
| Who never bothered to teach you cause the bitch was that shady |
| I never leave home without the guns (ah) |
| It’s Saigon, and motherfucking Jess Jones |
| I’m gone |
| (translation) |
| Je-Jesse Jones, I'm from Drabantbyen |
| Asking them to settle on my life is difficult |
| Welcome to Oslo shit, it's happening in the capital |
| Fat cars and drugs for little Groruddalen |
| This one goes out to all those who push packages |
| Jesse Jones he is criminal blacking |
| I'm my Ken Ring, I'm acquaintance, I'm excitement |
| Hip-Hop in Oslo it takes a different turn, a completely different ignition |
| We are on other thoughts |
| Do it here for those who hang out in Drabantbyen |
| Black hood, black gloves |
| Asking them to settle on my life is difficult |
| One thing we say is forever |
| Fuck the police, make money and take chances |
| Have what they need, have what catches |
| But we clap, it's money that speaks |
| It's Jesse, you know me from the neighborhood |
| They are not used to the draban style that I brought with me |
| What the hell |
| Damn, do you? |
| I thought it was snot, me |
| Open the door, it's Ken Ring |
| I live life with my homeland as an instinct |
| So damn nice that one more has come in |
| All of Oslo, stop, stand still |
| It's dangerous, you burn your fingertips |
| Charges all night, goes home and chews the caterpillars |
| Concrete blocks, around where I live |
| Now they came, fuck every other brother |
| In the middle of Stovner, I'm lying there spinning |
| In a brand new car with Jesse Jones and just flummoxing |
| Pounds away it brings in salmon, back off when you see these blacks |
| Turns off the beat to smoke my weed… you know how it goes! |
| On the average night, I'm likely to stab a fag with a knife |
| That's when I'm chilling, imagine when I'm mad what it's like |
| Damn right it's a disasterous sight |
| Why do you think I’ve been in prison more than half of my life (my life) |
| Wolves, bloods and crips, duckin 'the digs |
| We do not like basketball, but still fuck with the knicks |
| Dimes, twenties, fifties and bricks |
| Summer art though, if the bitch needs a fix, it's triple the tips |
| Do whatever it takes, the fakes, I can never relate |
| Ya’ll can chill as long as my cheddar is straight |
| But if I’m broke, shit, I’mma load the beretta with eight |
| Show y’all niggas my gun game is better than great |
| Little crack baby, ignorant son of a black lady |
| Who never bothered to teach you cause the bitch was that shady |
| I never leave home without the guns (ah) |
| It’s Saigon, and motherfucking Jess Jones |
| I’m gone |