Chee Malabar — Paroles et traduction des paroles de la chanson Live from Al-Jazeera (Feat. Amitava Kumar)

Paroles

On behalf of the unruliest hooligan mob
Malcontent with a pen, Rap’s Julian Assange
Underground, off air, no bombs by Funk Flex
My shit bump in suicide trucks of some sub sects
(Burning Tires…)
From Madras to Mombasa
They harass us in our casa
Sayin' ‘you Hamas, huh?'—Yeah, like I learned to rap in a fucking Madrassa
Making bomb music like the sounds of scuds past ya
(Burning Tires)
All I got to show for it—
Precondition, I’m ill, someone tell me where COBRA is
No Medicare, I medicate on six packs of beer
Hit the street with kerosene and light whatever’s near
(Burning Tires)
…and effigies ablaze, kill your idols
Whether Pop, Politics, or some god
The name’s Chirag, faceless face in the mob
Cancel checks (Czechs) you endorse like abortions in Prague
Still Live from Al-Jazeera: subtitled, grainy pixeled
Voice of Brown, homegrown yet strangely distant
They can’t reconcile my style, speech, and my ‘staani tan
American passport, face like a Taliban
…Screamin' ‘Ali for Imam'
Hit the stage with K.M. Hassan, give ya’ll the Saddam wave
Chem Ali’s gassin' ‘em—stages turn to mass graves
House rage offa subprime rate
Narration (Amitava Kumar)
I’m telling you this here so that you can see how ordinary men and women whose
lives are entangled in the war on terror tell stories about themselves and
their place in the world. Theirs are stories that bring together,
whether as acts of fancy or as pictures of grim reality, different parts of
our divided world
We don’t shuck and jive for pay, mortgage heaven
And sell a preacher hell
Stroll through perdition in Adidas Shells
Old ass rappers trying to cast a Bieber spell
I speak 16's that wake up sleeper cells—
We young, Brown, and stressed, long noses, hooded eyelids
Articulate, yeah—with names on No Fly Lists
But life is hard, why go at it easy?
For the fruits of my labor, peace to Mohammed Bouazizi
Narration (Amitava Kumar)
Of course, as any writer knows, a story might begin at one place and then
through an extraordinary, unexpected turn end up somewhere else entirely…
The individual vanishes in a dark place of secrets. Or we watch him disappear
on the brazen stage of propaganda. The particulars of an individual life are
sometimes all that we have as a precious lifeline to firm reality

Traduction des paroles