Immortal Technique — Paroles et traduction des paroles de la chanson Industrial Revolution
La page contient les paroles et la traduction française de la chanson « Industrial Revolution » de Immortal Technique.
Paroles
The bling-bling era was cute but it’s about to be done
I leave ya full of clipse like the moon blocking the sun
my metaphors are dirty like herpes but harder to catch
like an escape tunnel in prison I started from scratch
and now these parasites wanna percent of my asscap
trying to control perspective like an acid flashback
but here’s a quotable for every single record exec
get your fucking hands out my pocket nigga like Malcolm X but this ain’t a movie, I’m not a fan or a groupie
and I’m not that type of cat, you can afford to miss if you shoot me curse to heavens and laugh when the sky electrocutes me Immortal Technique stuck in your thoughts darkening dreams
no ones as good as good as me, they just got better marketing schemes
I leave ya to your own destruction like sparking a fiend
cuz you got jealousy in ya voice like star scream
and that’s the primary reason that I hate ya faggots
I’ve been nice since niggaz got killed over 8-ball jackets
and Reebok Pumps that didn’t do shit for the sneaker
I’m a heatseaker with features that’ll reach through the speaker
and murder counter revolutionaries personally
break a thermometer and force feed his kids mercury
ANR’s tribe jerking me thinking they call shots
offered me a deal and a blanket full of small pocks
your all getting shot, you little fucking tregerous bitches
This is the business, and ya’ll ain’t getting nothing for free
and if you devils play broke, then I’m taking your company
you can call it reparations or restitution
lock and load nigga, industrial revolution
I want fifty three million dollars for my collar stand
like the Bush administration gave to the Taliban
and fuck packing grams nigga, learn to speak and behave
you wanna spend twenty years as a government slave
two million people in prison keep the government paid
stuck in a six block eight cell alive in the grave
i was made by revolution to speak to the masses
deep in the club toast the truth, reach for the classes
I burn an orphanage just to bring heat to you bastards
innocent deep in a casket, columbian fashion
intoxicated of the flow like thugs passion
you motherfuckers will never get me to stop blastin'
your better off asking Ariel Sharon for compassion
your better off banging for twenty points for a label
your better off battling cancer under telephone cabels
Technique chemically unstable, set to explode
foretold by the dead sea scrolls written in codes
so if your message ain’t shit, fuck the records you sold
cuz if you go platinum, it’s got nothing to do with luck
it just means that a million people are stupid as fuck
stuck in the underground in general and rose to the limit
without distribution managers, a deal, or a gimmick
Revolutionary Volume 2, murder the critics
and leave your fucking body rotten for the roaches and crickets
Traduction des paroles
j'ai été fait par la révolution pour parler aux masses
au fond du club toast la vérité, atteindre les classes
Je brûle un orphelinat juste pour vous apporter de la chaleur bâtards
innocent profond dans une cercueil, Colombian fashion
en état d'ébriété de l'écoulement comme des voyous passion
vous n'arrêterez jamais de me faire exploser
vous feriez mieux de demander à Ariel Sharon de la compassion
de votre mieux frapper pour vingt points pour une étiquette
votre mieux lutter contre le cancer sous les câbles téléphoniques
Technique chimiquement instable, prêt à exploser
prédit par les rouleaux de la mer Morte écrits en codes
donc si ton message n'est pas de la merde, baise les disques que tu as vendus
parce que si vous allez platinum, ça n'a rien à voir avec la chance
ça veut dire qu'un million de personnes sont stupides
coincé dans le métro en général et a atteint la limite
sans gestionnaires de distribution, un accord, ou un gimmick
Révolutionnaire Volume 2, assassiner les critiques
et laisse ton putain de corps pourri pour les cafards et les grillons