Free style (style libre)

Αγγλικά translation

Free style

Let me write just to heal my soul
Exorcise into art what some would call [my] gob
A piece of paper to turn my sorrows into songs
Strangely they said to me, Come off it! Luck’s in the slammer…
Me, I beat it. Here rhymes are on the attack
There’s talk of ‘top of the class’ mistaking rap for an art school
The pen’s my weapon, my art’s my lungs
What my heart says to me I transcribe verbatim
So excuse me if sometimes I sound scathing
But this world’s only a story where bit players get lost
 
Look at the slaughter out there, no need for metaphors
So into the mike I roar like a megaphone
Listen. I only have my ideas to shape my future
I swim to it. I'm not one to take a ship to get away
With a mike I’m off delighted, quick before my soul gets wound up
Cuz only hatred is being pushed in my city
Let me write before dying from within
The pen’s my weapon to kill my inner suffering
I see boredom which is laughing for no reason and will marry
my madness if I drown in its tidal wave
signing my death warrant. But don't fret
I keep walking, barefoot cuz shit’s sticking to my shoes
You seen the times? Their sickness can’t be read on tarot cards
My good health is of course my buddies, and when unwell
I still land on my feet
I don't care for this drift and all those nasty mockers
Mind your own plate. I comfort those people dear to my heart
I leave you amongst lunatics, so ‘enjoy your meal, folks’
Eat one another up while I watch you racing
I'm not here for the title
If rap turns into a show I quit
but if a mike goes around I dig it
This world is sick and I clamour it to the point of losing my voice
Cuz content is an abyss even if they’ve disguised form
[I’m] born into a world which has turned all of us insane
So let me write to better fight my demons
Who rise and from my memory emerge. Help me!
I’ve only got my pen to heal my wounds and lighten my burden
From concrete, I want to touch the stars and I'm hearing that wind
Which warns me that routine freezes us, that we must leave the ice floe
[I’m] already worn out cuz peace dies in the dock
Do you understand why my rap is in this disillusioned light?
I didn't hedge, I went right into rap
I live and I’ll take whatever life handles me
I shout, perhaps too much to your taste?
You so tied down to the System you no longer see the rope round your neck
There are too many pits, look, for too few solid bases
Thanks to gallons of poison we bear with our quaint lives
It’s all a bloody mess and the times force you to be a part of it
You’re forced to possess when nothing’s ever gained
 
Υποβλήθηκε από mbg στις Τετ, 30/03/2011 - 08:07
δέχθηκε 4 ευχαριστίες
Επισκέπτες ευχαρίστησαν 4 φορές
Γαλλικά

style libre

Idioms from "style libre"
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