Music For The Gangstas
2012
3:45
Official Music Video
Music For The Gangstas by Pharrell Williams
Lyrics & Translation
English
The pinks is real! yellows is real!
The whites is clean, y'know what I'm sayin'?
The blues is monster
I mean, it's... the Laffy Taffy chain, hahaha
Y'know what I'm sayin'?
When I rock it, start laughin'
Hahaha
In My Mind's coming soon
It's so real
But in the meantime, we have some other shit to handle
So real (The Aphilliates, nigga, pay attention!)
This the music for the-
Skateboard P been paying a lot of dues (Dr- Dr- Dr-)
So real
And I don't know if y'all niggas been paying attention
It's so real (Dr- Dr- Dr-)
Well, if not, this what I'ma do for 'em
This that music for the- (Dramatic!)
Yeah
DJ Drama, AMG
This that music for the- (Gangsta!)
Star Trak!
Yeah
Ill! (Gangsta Gri-Zillz!)
This that music for the most realest, blow dealers
Who by the way are Mo' spillers
Surrounded by go-rillas, yeah
It's Skateboard, over "Trap or Die"
From Virginia, AKA "Hustler's Paradise" (Dramatic, nigga!)
Yeah, it's Skateboard, over "Trap or Die"
Yeah, it's Skateboard, over "Trap or Die" (Gangsta Gri-Zillz!)
-the most realest, blow dealers
Who, by the way, are Mo' spillers
Surrounded by go-rillas, yeah (Gangsta!)
It's Skateboard, over "Trap or Die"
From Virginia, AKA "Hustler's Paradise"
But don't get it twisted, they be kidnapping guys
Caught you slippin' your fault, the unmastered eye
The only math-ma-tic is drug traff-a-ic
Get it cook it cut it nigga then wrap it quick
Get yourself a white one, get your man a matching 6
The whiteys call him "hip-hop," but they can't rap a lick
Niggas tryna case 'em, the Feds is tryna chase 'em
But they got it all designed like the mind of a Mason
Fresh Ice Creams, I know you ain't plan to fall
Turn that white tee red like Santa Claus
It's almost sacrilegious, the way they practice business (Gangsta!)
We call it package-risen the way that drug wakes up the dead
Just for sports cars, it's lipstick-red
On chrome deep-dishes; the face of the rim is red like Swedish Fishes
Put the car and the rims together and get the sweetest kisses
Clear your head for a second, leave the weed restricted
I know you think I'm rapping fly, but I know niggas that rap and fly
While I rap in fly jets, banging that "Trap or Die"
I'm a great rapper, right?
Yeah, yeah (Young Dro), yeah, yeah
Shout to Grand Hustle!
For real, fuck with me
My nigga, Young Dro!
Young Dro, check this
Talk to 'em!
Young Dro, ayy, I could turn time a day back (Gangsta)
June the First (What?), I could whip up and bring May back (Oh!)
Play that, I am a Yugoslavian killer
German bricks: I am a Yugoslavian dealer (Gangsta Gri-Zillz!)
Painkiller, blue-green Chevy, Navy Seal, marine-ready
Dope same color spaghetti-you know, off-white, noodle yay'
Flying Spur, super great
Forty-five caliber to your chest, super-pray (Hard)
Fruit whips, deuce-trey, 'bout to blow my roof away (Get 'em)
Japanese torpedo (Choing-yoing), 'bout to blow your coupe away (Ah)
I hustle where I used to stay
Nah, I ain't gon' tell em all that
(Nah, nah, slow down, shawty, slow down, son)
I'ma stop right here, and I'ma come back here, like, here
Ayy, look, ayy (Dr- Dr- Dramatic!)
Ayy, ice-white grape, white-grape Jays (Okay)
Light-grey yay', tote twice AK's (Blaow, blaow)
Dice for eight days (Yes), ocean-black waves (Yes)
Ocean-green Jaguar (Yes), total-black 'yays (Yes)
Tote a black gauge (AP), Benz Four-Door Class 8 (Yuh)
Mercedes 900, nigga, fuck a 500
Big rocks in my ear-look like a muscadine, don't it?
Oh, that rhyme don't it? (Yes!) Gotta believe us
'Frigerator rocks, I was born in the freezer (Brrr-r-r)
Ayy, I was born in the freezer (Gangsta!)
(Hold up, man, what's up, y'all?)
Nigga, my pistol fully loaded, and my cheese in stacks
You can keep the baking soda-ain't no need for that (Gangsta!)
Cook crack, money fast, off-white money long
We ball in Bowen Homes 'til all the money gone (Ayy!)
Forty-cal' leave you numb like you bumped your funny bone
What the fuck you laughing for? Ain't a damn thing funny, homes (Gangsta Gri-Zillz!)
Live the dangerous life, I could show you the skull and bones
Smooth as Frank Sinatra, but gangster like Al Capone
It's well-known where we from and all the shit that we done
Whether we proud of it or not, speaking loud of it or not (Dr- Dr- Dramatic!)
I take a scoop out the block and then drop it into the pot
Distribute it to the block-it's easy, believe it or not
Niggas come all shapes and sizes, but pistols even 'em out
It's plain to see he was shot, but nobody speaking to cops
He seized, the gun dropped, they squeeze and none stopped
I miss them, double back, and kill them all in one wop, nigga
Simple as that, man
Now that's what quality street music's supposed to sound like!
Ain't nothing to it in the hood
You never there; we there often
DJ Drama!
Dro, P, let's get it!
Oh! Ayy!
Spanish translations are provided by the LyricVerse team.
Spanish translation of Music For The Gangstas by Pharrell Williams
Music For The Gangstas* (original Pharrell Williams)
The pinks is real! yellows is real!
The whites is clean, y'know what I'm sayin'?
The blues is monster
I mean, it's... the Laffy Taffy chain, hahaha
Y'know what I'm sayin'?
When I rock it, start laughin'
Hahaha
In My Mind's coming soon
It's so real
But in the meantime, we have some other shit to handle
So real (The Aphilliates, nigga, pay attention!)
This the music for the-
Skateboard P been paying a lot of dues (Dr- Dr- Dr-)
So real
And I don't know if y'all niggas been paying attention
It's so real (Dr- Dr- Dr-)
Well, if not, this what I'ma do for 'em
This that music for the- (Dramatic!)
Yeah
DJ Drama, AMG
This that music for the- (Gangsta!)
Star Trak!
Yeah
Ill! (Gangsta Gri-Zillz!)
This that music for the most realest, blow dealers
Who by the way are Mo' spillers
Surrounded by go-rillas, yeah
It's Skateboard, over "Trap or Die"
From Virginia, AKA "Hustler's Paradise" (Dramatic, nigga!)
Yeah, it's Skateboard, over "Trap or Die"
Yeah, it's Skateboard, over "Trap or Die" (Gangsta Gri-Zillz!)
-the most realest, blow dealers
Who, by the way, are Mo' spillers
Surrounded by go-rillas, yeah (Gangsta!)
It's Skateboard, over "Trap or Die"
From Virginia, AKA "Hustler's Paradise"
But don't get it twisted, they be kidnapping guys
Caught you slippin' your fault, the unmastered eye
The only math-ma-tic is drug traff-a-ic
Get it cook it cut it nigga then wrap it quick
Get yourself a white one, get your man a matching 6
The whiteys call him "hip-hop," but they can't rap a lick
Niggas tryna case 'em, the Feds is tryna chase 'em
But they got it all designed like the mind of a Mason
Fresh Ice Creams, I know you ain't plan to fall
Turn that white tee red like Santa Claus
It's almost sacrilegious, the way they practice business (Gangsta!)
We call it package-risen the way that drug wakes up the dead
Just for sports cars, it's lipstick-red
On chrome deep-dishes; the face of the rim is red like Swedish Fishes
Put the car and the rims together and get the sweetest kisses
Clear your head for a second, leave the weed restricted
I know you think I'm rapping fly, but I know niggas that rap and fly
While I rap in fly jets, banging that "Trap or Die"
I'm a great rapper, right?
Yeah, yeah (Young Dro), yeah, yeah
Shout to Grand Hustle!
For real, fuck with me
My nigga, Young Dro!
Young Dro, check this
Talk to 'em!
Young Dro, ayy, I could turn time a day back (Gangsta)
June the First (What?), I could whip up and bring May back (Oh!)
Play that, I am a Yugoslavian killer
German bricks: I am a Yugoslavian dealer (Gangsta Gri-Zillz!)
Painkiller, blue-green Chevy, Navy Seal, marine-ready
Dope same color spaghetti-you know, off-white, noodle yay'
Flying Spur, super great
Forty-five caliber to your chest, super-pray (Hard)
Fruit whips, deuce-trey, 'bout to blow my roof away (Get 'em)
Japanese torpedo (Choing-yoing), 'bout to blow your coupe away (Ah)
I hustle where I used to stay
Nah, I ain't gon' tell em all that
(Nah, nah, slow down, shawty, slow down, son)
I'ma stop right here, and I'ma come back here, like, here
Ayy, look, ayy (Dr- Dr- Dramatic!)
Ayy, ice-white grape, white-grape Jays (Okay)
Light-grey yay', tote twice AK's (Blaow, blaow)
Dice for eight days (Yes), ocean-black waves (Yes)
Ocean-green Jaguar (Yes), total-black 'yays (Yes)
Tote a black gauge (AP), Benz Four-Door Class 8 (Yuh)
Mercedes 900, nigga, fuck a 500
Big rocks in my ear-look like a muscadine, don't it?
Oh, that rhyme don't it? (Yes!) Gotta believe us
'Frigerator rocks, I was born in the freezer (Brrr-r-r)
Ayy, I was born in the freezer (Gangsta!)
(Hold up, man, what's up, y'all?)
Nigga, my pistol fully loaded, and my cheese in stacks
You can keep the baking soda-ain't no need for that (Gangsta!)
Cook crack, money fast, off-white money long
We ball in Bowen Homes 'til all the money gone (Ayy!)
Forty-cal' leave you numb like you bumped your funny bone
What the fuck you laughing for? Ain't a damn thing funny, homes (Gangsta Gri-Zillz!)
Live the dangerous life, I could show you the skull and bones
Smooth as Frank Sinatra, but gangster like Al Capone
It's well-known where we from and all the shit that we done
Whether we proud of it or not, speaking loud of it or not (Dr- Dr- Dramatic!)
I take a scoop out the block and then drop it into the pot
Distribute it to the block-it's easy, believe it or not
Niggas come all shapes and sizes, but pistols even 'em out
It's plain to see he was shot, but nobody speaking to cops
He seized, the gun dropped, they squeeze and none stopped
I miss them, double back, and kill them all in one wop, nigga
Simple as that, man
Now that's what quality street music's supposed to sound like!
Ain't nothing to it in the hood
You never there; we there often
DJ Drama!
Dro, P, let's get it!
Oh! Ayy!
Music For The Gangstas (traducción LyricVerse Team)
¡Los rosas son reales! ¡Los amarillos son reales!
Los blancos están limpios, ¿sabes lo que digo?
Los azules son monstruosos
Quiero decir, es... la cadena Laffy Taffy, jajajaja
¿Sabes lo que digo?
Cuando la uso, empiezo a reír
Jajajaja
"In My Mind" llegará pronto
Es tan real
Pero mientras tanto, tenemos otras mierdas que manejar
Tan real (¡The Aphilliates, negro, presten atención!)
Esta es la música para los-
Skateboard P ha pagado muchas cuotas (Dr- Dr- Dr-)
Tan real
Y no sé si ustedes, negros, han estado prestando atención
Es tan real (Dr- Dr- Dr-)
Bueno, si no, esto es lo que haré por ellos
Esta es esa música para los- (¡Dramático!)
Sí
DJ Drama, AMG
Esta es esa música para los- (¡Gangsta!)
¡Star Trak!
Sí
¡Enfermo! (¡Gangsta Gri-Zillz!)
Esta es esa música para los más reales, los traficantes de droga
Quienes, por cierto, son Mo' spillers
Rodeados de go-rillas, sí
Es Skateboard, sobre "Trap or Die"
De Virginia, también conocido como "El Paraíso del Traficante" (¡Dramático, negro!)
Sí, es Skateboard, sobre "Trap or Die"
Sí, es Skateboard, sobre "Trap or Die" (¡Gangsta Gri-Zillz!)
—los más reales, los traficantes de droga
Quienes, por cierto, son Mo' spillers
Rodeados de go-rillas, sí (¡Gangsta!)
Es Skateboard, sobre "Trap or Die"
De Virginia, también conocido como "El Paraíso del Traficante"
Pero no te equivoques, ellos secuestran tipos
Te atraparon descuidado, tu culpa, el ojo inexperto
La única matemática es el tráfico de drogas
Consíguelo, cocínalo, córtalo, negro, luego envuélvelo rápido
Consíguete uno blanco, consigue a tu hombre un 6 a juego
Los blancos lo llaman "hip-hop", pero no pueden rapear ni un poco
Los negros intentan vigilarlos, los Federales intentan perseguirlos
Pero lo tienen todo diseñado como la mente de un Masón
Helados frescos, sé que no planeabas caer
Convierte esa camiseta blanca en roja como Santa Claus
Es casi sacrílego, la forma en que hacen negocios (¡Gangsta!)
Lo llamamos "paquete resucitado" por cómo esa droga despierta a los muertos
Solo por los coches deportivos, es rojo labial
En llantas cromadas profundas; la cara de la llanta es roja como los caramelos Swedish Fish
Junta el coche y las llantas y obtén los besos más dulces
Despeja tu cabeza por un segundo, deja la hierba restringida
Sé que crees que rapeo con estilo, pero conozco negros que rapean y vuelan
Mientras rapeo en jets de lujo, sonando ese "Trap or Die"
Soy un gran rapero, ¿verdad?
Sí, sí (Young Dro), sí, sí
¡Un saludo a Grand Hustle!
En serio, jódete conmigo
¡Mi negro, Young Dro!
Young Dro, mira esto
¡Háblales!
Young Dro, oye, podría retroceder el tiempo un día (Gangsta)
Primero de junio (¿Qué?), podría preparar y traer de vuelta mayo (¡Oh!)
Reproduce eso, soy un asesino yugoslavo
Ladrillos alemanes: soy un traficante yugoslavo (¡Gangsta Gri-Zillz!)
Analgésico, Chevy azul-verde, Navy Seal, listo para el mar
Droga del mismo color que el espagueti, ya sabes, blanquecina, fideos yay'
Flying Spur, súper genial
Calibre cuarenta y cinco a tu pecho, súper reza (Duro)
Látigos de fruta, dos-tres, a punto de volar mi techo (Consíguelos)
Torpedo japonés (Choing-yoing), a punto de volar tu coupé (Ah)
Trafico donde solía quedarme
Nah, no les voy a contar todo eso
(Nah, nah, despacio, nena, despacio, hijo)
Voy a parar aquí, y voy a volver aquí, como, aquí
Oye, mira, oye (¡Dr- Dr- Dramático!)
Oye, uva blanca helada, Jays de uva blanca (Okay)
Yay' gris claro, lleva dos AK's (Blaow, blaow)
Dados por ocho días (Sí), olas negras del océano (Sí)
Jaguar verde océano (Sí), 'yays' totalmente negros (Sí)
Lleva un calibre negro (AP), Benz Cuatro Puertas Clase 8 (Yuh)
Mercedes 900, negro, a la mierda un 500
Grandes rocas en mi oreja, parecen una muscadina, ¿verdad?
Oh, ¿eso rima, verdad? (¡Sí!) Tienes que creernos
Rocas de nevera, nací en el congelador (Brrr-r-r)
Oye, nací en el congelador (¡Gangsta!)
(Esperen, hombre, ¿qué pasa, chicos?)
Negro, mi pistola está completamente cargada, y mi dinero en pilas
Puedes quedarte el bicarbonato, no hay necesidad de eso (¡Gangsta!)
Cocina crack, dinero rápido, dinero blanquecino por mucho tiempo
Nos divertimos en Bowen Homes hasta que todo el dinero se acabe (¡Oye!)
Un calibre cuarenta te dejará entumecido como si te hubieras golpeado el hueso de la risa
¿Por qué carajo te ríes? No hay nada gracioso, amigo (¡Gangsta Gri-Zillz!)
Vive la vida peligrosa, podría mostrarte la calavera y los huesos
Suave como Frank Sinatra, pero gánster como Al Capone
Es bien sabido de dónde somos y toda la mierda que hemos hecho
Estemos orgullosos o no, hablándolo en voz alta o no (¡Dr- Dr- Dramático!)
Saco una cucharada del bloque y luego la echo en la olla
Lo distribuyo al barrio, es fácil, lo creas o no
Los negros vienen en todas las formas y tamaños, pero las pistolas los igualan
Es obvio que le dispararon, pero nadie habla con los policías
Se convulsionó, el arma se cayó, ellos aprietan y ninguno se detuvo
Los extraño, doy la vuelta y los mato a todos de un golpe, negro
Tan simple como eso, hombre
¡Así es como se supone que debe sonar la música callejera de calidad!
No hay nada que hacer en el barrio
Tú nunca estás allí; nosotros estamos a menudo
¡DJ Drama!
¡Dro, P, vamos a por ello!
¡Oh! ¡Oye!
Lyrics provided by LyricVerse • Visit us at lyricverse.com
