How Does It Feel
2006
3:35
Official Music Video
How Does It Feel by Pharrell Williams
Lyrics & Translation
English
Yessir! Haha, lil' Skateboard P
Hey! Mr. Vener!
Uh-huh, yo, hola
Billionaire Club muchacho
Assorted flavors in these helados
Inspire young minds, and stack my nachos
With the raw determination of a vato
Run across the border with bricks in his poncho
Face like a shot when it's bussin' by glocko
Planning these things 'til I die
When the Holy Father hand me my wings, when I was young, yo
The teacher couldn't stand when we dreamed
Giving me music like drugs in the hand of a fiend-and shoot it up
See me on the TV, the cuties, they wanna fuck
Both residential that's plush and couped it up
Got more hits than a zip, who want it nuh?
I can go back in time, you be Judge Ito
With my minute repeater, I know you're thinking "neat-o!"
It repeats the minutes, something like your TiVo
But it's three-hundred-thousand more with no remote
Jacob and Lorraine, I used to deal with Tito
But he clowned me and told me that my money's fritos
Now the Enzo doors go up like a D-Lo
Ree-on, same song sung by my man Nigo
SLR, when the doors go up it's like a fresh L jar
Nigga, we boss, he shall not get hot, he too frost
Yessir!
My nigga, close your eyes
Just picture yourself just holdin' pies
Implement a plan and you surely rise
This promised by the man that controlled the skies
Don't you see? I know that shit so ill
Better yet, doggie, just tell me how ya feel
Haha, how you feel, dawg?
We just picture thinkin', dreamin', schemin'
Bleedin', readin', all in the late night
Shakin', boilin', lacin', bakin'
Shapin', shavin', gotta get this cake right
As I serve it, you just burn it
Breathe it, learn it, now watch you take flight
Nigga, how does it feel? Haha, yessir
Nigga, you don't know me
I'm part Howard Hughes, part horny, part holy
First trick on the ramp is the rockin' rollie
Keep one on my staff with a new pro chromey
It bequeaths me to mention that I've been bitten
But affords me to chuckle at what critics have written
He dresses insane, but his music admire
Ask Anna Wintour from Vogue and Esquire
And Vanity Fair; you like Kennedy here
But you should guess who's in the insanity chair
Now it ain't about what I want
Still thumbin' through my life like it's drugstore porn
It's one thing to say that you did it
It's one thing to lie about your digits
It's one thing to say that you live it
It's another for you fuckers to admit it
But I admit I got all this paper
Plus the prettiest faces that's offered by nature
I drive a cas'per, 'scuse me, Casper
Wanna meet 'em in my house, I got space like NASA
But it don't make me happier by itself, or sadder
Or like my sister Stace when she lost her pappa
Or Ben dad gettin' a stroke, and nothin' that Trapper
John could do; it's ironic but true
A man dies, baby born, it's fair as Peru
It's a simple clue between us and imposters
We hop in the air and don't care what it costs us
Now I'm with N.E.R.D. with a pit full of moshers
I guess you could say that we fly like saucers
Zappin' at niggas, we're classin' at vigor
The cash and crash whippers, the Thrasher mag gripper
Go 'head and say it: "You a rappin' ass nigga"
Yessir!
My nigga, close your eyes
Just picture yourself just holdin' pies
Implement a plan and you surely rise
This promised by the man that controlled the skies
Don't you see? I know that shit so ill
Better yet, doggie, just tell me how ya feel
Haha, how you feel, dawg?
We just picture thinkin', dreamin', schemin'
Bleedin', readin', all in the late night
Shakin', boilin', lacin', bakin'
Shapin', shavin', gotta get this cake right
As I serve it, you just burn it
Breathe it, learn it, now watch you take flight
Nigga, how does it feel? Haha, yessir
Nigga, you don't know me
Spanish translations are provided by the LyricVerse team.
Spanish translation of How Does It Feel by Pharrell Williams
How Does It Feel* (original Pharrell Williams)
Yessir! Haha, lil' Skateboard P
Hey! Mr. Vener!
Uh-huh, yo, hola
Billionaire Club muchacho
Assorted flavors in these helados
Inspire young minds, and stack my nachos
With the raw determination of a vato
Run across the border with bricks in his poncho
Face like a shot when it's bussin' by glocko
Planning these things 'til I die
When the Holy Father hand me my wings, when I was young, yo
The teacher couldn't stand when we dreamed
Giving me music like drugs in the hand of a fiend-and shoot it up
See me on the TV, the cuties, they wanna fuck
Both residential that's plush and couped it up
Got more hits than a zip, who want it nuh?
I can go back in time, you be Judge Ito
With my minute repeater, I know you're thinking "neat-o!"
It repeats the minutes, something like your TiVo
But it's three-hundred-thousand more with no remote
Jacob and Lorraine, I used to deal with Tito
But he clowned me and told me that my money's fritos
Now the Enzo doors go up like a D-Lo
Ree-on, same song sung by my man Nigo
SLR, when the doors go up it's like a fresh L jar
Nigga, we boss, he shall not get hot, he too frost
Yessir!
My nigga, close your eyes
Just picture yourself just holdin' pies
Implement a plan and you surely rise
This promised by the man that controlled the skies
Don't you see? I know that shit so ill
Better yet, doggie, just tell me how ya feel
Haha, how you feel, dawg?
We just picture thinkin', dreamin', schemin'
Bleedin', readin', all in the late night
Shakin', boilin', lacin', bakin'
Shapin', shavin', gotta get this cake right
As I serve it, you just burn it
Breathe it, learn it, now watch you take flight
Nigga, how does it feel? Haha, yessir
Nigga, you don't know me
I'm part Howard Hughes, part horny, part holy
First trick on the ramp is the rockin' rollie
Keep one on my staff with a new pro chromey
It bequeaths me to mention that I've been bitten
But affords me to chuckle at what critics have written
He dresses insane, but his music admire
Ask Anna Wintour from Vogue and Esquire
And Vanity Fair; you like Kennedy here
But you should guess who's in the insanity chair
Now it ain't about what I want
Still thumbin' through my life like it's drugstore porn
It's one thing to say that you did it
It's one thing to lie about your digits
It's one thing to say that you live it
It's another for you fuckers to admit it
But I admit I got all this paper
Plus the prettiest faces that's offered by nature
I drive a cas'per, 'scuse me, Casper
Wanna meet 'em in my house, I got space like NASA
But it don't make me happier by itself, or sadder
Or like my sister Stace when she lost her pappa
Or Ben dad gettin' a stroke, and nothin' that Trapper
John could do; it's ironic but true
A man dies, baby born, it's fair as Peru
It's a simple clue between us and imposters
We hop in the air and don't care what it costs us
Now I'm with N.E.R.D. with a pit full of moshers
I guess you could say that we fly like saucers
Zappin' at niggas, we're classin' at vigor
The cash and crash whippers, the Thrasher mag gripper
Go 'head and say it: "You a rappin' ass nigga"
Yessir!
My nigga, close your eyes
Just picture yourself just holdin' pies
Implement a plan and you surely rise
This promised by the man that controlled the skies
Don't you see? I know that shit so ill
Better yet, doggie, just tell me how ya feel
Haha, how you feel, dawg?
We just picture thinkin', dreamin', schemin'
Bleedin', readin', all in the late night
Shakin', boilin', lacin', bakin'
Shapin', shavin', gotta get this cake right
As I serve it, you just burn it
Breathe it, learn it, now watch you take flight
Nigga, how does it feel? Haha, yessir
Nigga, you don't know me
How Does It Feel (traducción LyricVerse Team)
¡Sí, señor! Jaja, pequeño Skateboard P
¡Oye! ¡Mr. Vener!
Ajá, yo, hola
Muchacho del Club de los Billonarios
Sabores variados en estos helados
Inspirar mentes jóvenes, y apilar mis nachos
Con la cruda determinación de un vato
Cruzar la frontera con ladrillos en su poncho
Cara como un disparo cuando suena con la glocko
Planeando estas cosas hasta que muera
Cuando el Padre Santo me entregue mis alas, cuando era joven, yo
La maestra no soportaba cuando soñábamos
Dándome música como drogas en la mano de un adicto, y dispararla
Mírame en la tele, las bellezas, quieren follar
Ambos residenciales que son lujosos y encerrados
Tengo más éxitos que un zip, ¿quién lo quiere, no?
Puedo volver en el tiempo, tú serías el Juez Ito
Con mi repetidor de minutos, sé que estás pensando "¡genial!"
Repite los minutos, algo así como tu TiVo
Pero son trescientos mil más sin control remoto
Jacob y Lorraine, solía tratar con Tito
Pero me hizo una broma y me dijo que mi dinero era fritos
Ahora las puertas del Enzo suben como un D-Lo
Ree-on, la misma canción cantada por mi amigo Nigo
SLR, cuando las puertas suben es como un frasco L fresco
Nigga, somos jefes, no se calentará, está demasiado helado
¡Sí, señor!
Mi nigga, cierra los ojos
Solo imagínate sosteniendo pasteles
Implementa un plan y seguramente te levantarás
Esto prometido por el hombre que controlaba los cielos
¿No lo ves? Sé que esa mierda es tan genial
Mejor aún, perrito, solo dime cómo te sientes
Jaja, ¿cómo te sientes, amigo?
Solo nos imaginamos pensando, soñando, tramando
Sangrando, leyendo, todo en la noche
Temblar, hervir, atar, hornear
Formar, afeitar, hay que hacer bien este pastel
Mientras lo sirvo, tú solo lo quemas
Respíralo, apréndelo, ahora mira cómo alzas el vuelo
Nigga, ¿cómo se siente? Jaja, sí, señor
Nigga, no me conoces
Soy parte Howard Hughes, parte cachondo, parte santo
El primer truco en la rampa es el "rockin' rollie"
Mantengo uno en mi personal con un nuevo pro cromado
Me corresponde mencionar que he sido mordido
Pero me permite reírme de lo que los críticos han escrito
Se viste de forma loca, pero su música se admira
Pregúntale a Anna Wintour de Vogue y Esquire
Y Vanity Fair; te gusta Kennedy aquí
Pero deberías adivinar quién está en la silla de la locura
Ahora no se trata de lo que quiero
Todavía hojeando mi vida como si fuera porno de farmacia
Una cosa es decir que lo hiciste
Una cosa es mentir sobre tus números
Una cosa es decir que lo vives
Es otra cosa que ustedes cabrones lo admitan
Pero admito que tengo todo este dinero
Además de los rostros más bonitos que ofrece la naturaleza
Conduzco un cas'per, disculpa, Casper
Quiero conocerlos en mi casa, tengo espacio como la NASA
Pero no me hace más feliz por sí mismo, ni más triste
O como mi hermana Stace cuando perdió a su papá
O el papá de Ben sufriendo un derrame, y nada que Trapper
John pudiera hacer; es irónico pero cierto
Un hombre muere, un bebé nace, es tan justo como Perú
Es una pista simple entre nosotros y los impostores
Saltamos en el aire y no nos importa lo que nos cueste
Ahora estoy con N.E.R.D. con un foso lleno de moshers
Supongo que podrías decir que volamos como platillos
Atacando a niggas, estamos clasificando con vigor
Los que azotan el dinero y los choques, el que agarra la revista Thrasher
Adelante, dilo: "Eres un nigga rapero de mierda"
¡Sí, señor!
Mi nigga, cierra los ojos
Solo imagínate sosteniendo pasteles
Implementa un plan y seguramente te levantarás
Esto prometido por el hombre que controlaba los cielos
¿No lo ves? Sé que esa mierda es tan genial
Mejor aún, perrito, solo dime cómo te sientes
Jaja, ¿cómo te sientes, amigo?
Solo nos imaginamos pensando, soñando, tramando
Sangrando, leyendo, todo en la noche
Temblar, hervir, atar, hornear
Formar, afeitar, hay que hacer bien este pastel
Mientras lo sirvo, tú solo lo quemas
Respíralo, apréndelo, ahora mira cómo alzas el vuelo
Nigga, ¿cómo se siente? Jaja, sí, señor
Nigga, no me conoces
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