Tabaco Lyrics – Bandallus Aquaticus
Singer: Bandallus Aquaticus
Title: Tabaco
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Tirado á bartola mentras vexo como enrolan
Teñen un Lambo pero de catro metros de alto…
Non sei fumar, chico, nunca estiven na movida
Pero aprendín a lialos pa cambialos por bebida
Os meus rolos non levan folgueira, só palla
Pero igual bótanse a perder cando orballa
Cortando traumas coa katana como samurai
Hoxe vou salvarme porque xusto chega o Samur aí
Sempre tiven un detalle pó que pide en Catro Calles
Salvaxe, doblo as esquinas da miña cárcere
Non vou fregar máis platos, xa me chegou
Ás fabas quizáis sí quе vou, estou cos meus
Ata o carallo, neno, bеn traballo che costou
Pero en ningún momento dixeche que fora o teu
Non quedan forzas nin pa mover o timón
Cabeza de baixón, pupilas mirando ao caixón…
No Dow Jones caían vermellos lóstregos
E toda unha xeración desexándose sorte, bro
Naide caeu da escaleira, a pesar do tremor
Os mesmos alegatos, o mesmo temor, o mesmo tumor…
Xornalismo para o futuro… inmediato
Nubes de acetato, non hai tanto cambio
Polución sensorial, revolución industrial
Isto é unha jauja, non how high
(This is not about how high you can reach)
(This is not about how high you can reach)
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Tabaco – English Translation
Play “Tobacco”
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Pulled to bartola while I see how they enrus
They have a lamp but four meters high …
I don’t know how to smoke, boy, I’ve never been in the move
But I learned to lial them to change them by drinking
My rollers do not carry strike, just straw
But just like they get lost when dew
Cutting traumas with katana as samurai
Today I will save me because the Samur right comes there
I’ve always had a dust detail that asks for four streets
Wild, fold the corners of my jail
I’m not going to scrub more dishes, you have already come to me
To the beans maybe yes quе go, I’m with my
Up to the f#ck, boy, bеn work has cost you
But at no time tell you that it had been your
There are no strength or to move the helm
Baixón head, pupils looking at the drawer …
In the Dow Jones fell red lightning
And a whole generation wishing you lucky, bro
Naide fell from the stairs despite the tremor
The same allegations, the same fear, the same tumor …
Journalism for the future … immediate
Acetate clouds, not so much change
Sensory pollution, industrial revolution
That’s a jauja, no how High
(This is not about how high you can read)
(This is not about how high you can read)
Play “Tobacco”
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Find more lyrics at lyrics.jspinyin.net
Lyrics Bandallus Aquaticus – Tabaco
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