MF DOOM — Paroles et traduction des paroles de la chanson The Finest
La page contient les paroles et la traduction française de la chanson « The Finest » de MF DOOM.
Paroles
And you learn to appreciate who is the nicest on said device
But who is?
Time at shashuma, too much drama, blind behind the rumor
Time and time and time, my mind, I’m trying to find a tumor
Time at shashuma, no time for humor
As soon as one of ya' men’s dead in Hempstead, you trying to find Pumas
Sooner the better, even knitted a sweater already
Keep your leather, we coming through the brutal weather
We ready to do whatever, yo' Doom you with it?
(You know it like a poet, my brother)
(Hey, Gunn you wit it?) Whatever…
I know about going paid to broke, to next day well-off
To bust a shell off, to dick-riders: «Get the hell off»
Made a call to a client, he must’ve had his cell off
A show-off, he has the same bite but fell off
I tell off the bat, from science to pure facts
Which niggas is wack 'til they last two tracks
Matter fact, y’all could wait for the rep to tell
The tall-tale, how he escape from out the depths of hell
When die, he gon' die like a soldier die:
Holding a swollen eye, drinking Olde Gold
Smoking a stog, watching po-po patrol the beach
Blowing my high, rolling by, when Gunn die
He gon' try to preach the streets then go to the sky
Yup! That hold water, like drizzle in a paper cup
This one etched in stone, the chisel with the paper up I need a cut: a taper-up, edge-up
Niggas can’t measure up, I’m here to get the treasure up Stands up and hold 'em high, do or die
He got heat, no surprise, stop the beat, close your eyes
Got the weed, rolling lah
Not sweet, so no demise, all the guys drops seeds so multiply
Within the prophecies hold the lie
He bled my mother and my father, but can’t bleed me OD, ghetto misery, he bled my brother, my sister, but can’t bleed me A OG, ghetto misery, bled my mother, my father, but can’t bleed …
Me … sci-fly, whole style stuck up Used to talk to myself, I told him, «Shut the fuck up!»
Buckle up, cause it’s about to be rough
He said, «Keep talking that shit, you 'bout to be snuffed»
Then we squashed it, I let em know: «Watch it --
We only met a time to join these rhymers in the mosh pit»
Gosh, it feels great just to increase the chance
For a pussy nigga face to hit the dance floor
I pull ya' top up, got clout, crack rock, what?
Now it’s all good business, and so this bitch is locked up On the dance floor: you got knocked out, your bitch got knocked up Baby-face, and hey can you brand you, brand new machete
Damn, I just shook your hand and can’t stand you already
Can’t stand you, understand you deadly
But my hammer’s like a band, my man, it’s Brand New and Heavy
Yo' Doom, you ready?
(Yeah! Yo' Gunn, you with it?) Whatever.
Come on stay, I wrote this rhyme on my born-day
Remind me of the same style I flipped on «Hey!»
Yikes! Who can fuck with the likes
Of one such who scores touchdown and spikes mic’s
Metal grill, with many styles, better still
Feel like number 26 on a roulette wheel
And deal, and run rings around rhymers
And run rings like number runners whose old-timers
Shorty in the all black, she think she all that
I called her, she said, «Don't call back!»
She called me, now what you call that?
Let’s go back, I sold crack
Hold gats, smoke that, drink that, toke that
Fuck! Where that ho at? Where that dough at?
Suffering succotash! This hooker broke into his last buck of cash
He love her, motherfuck her ass
Metal feet dented your car fender
My agenda up in the basement party tipping the bartender
Is unbeknownst to you -- who could get body blown?
MF like Mike Fran Corleone
And got it sown, maricon, like to know what you staring at?
An invisible cat, who pull off a disappearing act
Raised by a pack a wild wolves, it’s like Sweetback
Front? I’mma be back! (Like brothers in the street act)
(Surrounded by a bunch a bad bitches like Sweetback)
(Fuck with me I’ll be back)
Like niggas in the streets act (streets act!)
Traduction des paroles
Et vous apprenez à apprécier qui est le plus beau sur ledit appareil
Mais qui l'est?
Temps à shashuma, trop de drame, aveugle derrière la rumeur
Temps et temps et temps, mon esprit, j'essaie de trouver une tumeur
Temps à shashuma, pas de temps pour l'humour
Dès qu'un de vos hommes est mort à Hempstead, vous essayez de trouver des Pumas
Le plus tôt sera le mieux, même tricoté un pull déjà
Gardez votre cuir, nous à venir à travers le temps brutal
Nous sommes prêts à faire n'importe quoi, vous condamnez avec elle?
(Tu le sais comme un poète, mon frère)
(Hey, Gunn vous l'esprit?) Quoi…
Je sais À propos d'aller payé à broke, au lendemain aisés
Pour casser une coquille, pour dick-riders: «fous le camp»
Il a appelé un client, il a dû désactiver son portable
Un show-off, il a la même morsure, mais est tombé
Je dis hors de la chauve-souris, de la science aux faits purs
Quel niggas est farfelu jusqu'à ce qu'ils durent deux pistes
En fait, vous pourriez attendre que le représentant le dise
Le haut-conte, comment il échapper les profondeurs de l'enfer
Quand mourir, il Gon ' mourir comme un soldat mourir:
Tenant un œil enflé, buvant de L'or Olde
Fumer un stog, regarder po-po patrouille de la plage
Souffler mon haut, rouler par, Quand Gunn mourir
Il Gon ' essayer de prêcher les rues puis aller vers le ciel
Yup! Qui retiennent l'eau, comme la bruine dans une tasse de papier
Ce un gravées dans la pierre, le ciseau avec le papier, j'ai besoin d'un coupe: un cône-up, bord-up
Niggas ne peuvent pas mesurer, je suis ici pour obtenir le trésor se lève et les tenir haut, faire ou mourir
Il a de la chaleur, Pas de surprise, arrête le rythme, ferme les yeux
Obtenu les mauvaises herbes, les rolling lah
Pas doux, donc pas de disparition, tous les gars gouttes graines donc multiplier
Dans les prophéties tenez le mensonge
Il a saigné ma mère et mon père, mais ne peut pas me saigner OD, Ghetto misère, il a saigné mon frère, ma sœur, mais ne peut pas me saigner un og, Ghetto misère, saigné ma mère, mon père, mais ne peut pas saigner …
Moi ... SCI-fly, tout le style coincé utilisé pour parler à moi-même, je lui ai dit, " Ta gueule!»