Taco Hemingway - Kabriolety

Tłumaczenie:

I like cabriolets, expensive car, but I'm pouring the cheap diesel to my BMW
I go: vroom vroom, my lady screams "O gosh!"
Tequila, sexo, marijuana, only the cheap thrills
But in the summer no plans in my head
Well then, it's just my fetish
It's just this kind of appetite
When I was seventeen I smoked, grams, baggies
Nowadays rarely, but the vibe is the same as then
Open the wallet, see if you have the money for cigs
2, 3, 8, oh, not enough , sadly
My people are like Doc Martens
Your people are like strap-on Nikes
I see them when I'm going to Warsaw's parties
Once I was trapped home by satanic lines
I have to get up early tommorrow, bro, cause my schedule is full
But you wouldn't know that from any cheap newspaper, no

Driving farther and shifting the gear
I'm driving farther...

I'm mixing vodka half and half with sparkling water in a cup
A drink I will cure with black coffee tommorow morning
Igi calls, paparazzi caught us again - damn
Mine and the crew's faces are blured, thank God
Lately they have been chasing us with a cavalcade
I go out in sweat pants, they want to catch me with some Balenciaga
They write, zoom in and look closely into all the flaws
Yet they won't write about how me and my homie sold out an entire stadium
July buses behind the mirror
159 line cruisin' around the town
I think about how i used to ride it to get to highschool
And while hangover that thought can really move
I like it when the ice crumbs,
I like people, the loud ones, I hate the silence
I like concrete things, I don't like fortune-telling
I want progress on my path, I don't like to walk around wandering
Everyone who has to know, knows well, I don't have to say it
If you're not my homie, I don't have to like you
I need to buy estate, not vodka
I don't crash around the neighboorhood like anymore
This isn't Męskie Granie, boy, not corpo-music
Not mini vans but oldschool Volvo cruisin'
If you're listening to it now in the car, drive slowly, cousin
Rest in peace, Młody Leh, eternal soul peace

Driving farther and shifting the gear
I'm driving farther...

I guess I'm gonna do the third verse again
And then a fourth one, you know
I like the evenings that end in bemusement, you know
When they give you a fine, and I like it when they steal your wallet, you know
I'm sad that I haven't got beaten up lately
I like it when bottles shatter at the club
When alcoholics talk sad rubbish
I like it, like it when various walls dividing people are coming down
The thin-thick clouds above Warsaw signal an affray
Tottenham didn't win, I pour myself a large vodka
I take a puff and a sip, let's drink another round
But without the sadness this existence would've been much emptier
I've seen a lot in life, but I've never seen a whore in the mirror
I get up half past five, Gucci Mane waking me up
I feel like Bruce Wayne but I don't wake her up
Rock you, rock you like a hurricane
Studio day today
Wait, wait for me with rum, I'll be late, babe

Driving farther and shifting the gear
I'm driving farther...

Fifi making progress
Beating the record, as if the record owed me money
I'll find the way quietly, I don't ask and I don't wander
When I shave the media mourns my scanty moustache
Water after the drink and after then a drink again
I'm like Bonaparte, she's my Josephine
My rocket out of your league
With my rocket I'm playing Rocket League
I drink wine in Saint-Gilles, call me Saint Philippe
Mobb Deep playing, I read "Moby Dick"
A$AP Rocky playing with Moby, I'm creating a new hit
They claim that street, homies, but it's just Seasame Street, uh

Driving farther and shifting the gear
I'm driving farther...

I want a cabrio in my garage, not a maluch
I chase after it all alone
I do cardio like Paluch
I don't despise anyone, I keep my guard up
I lose my voice for my fans
I take a very expensive glass
I'll check my bank account in the morning
I've got some expensive furniture, some new paintings
But theres the same faces around me, the same homies for years here
At school, I cared about friendships, I'll tell you that
Cause I didn't give a damn about the atomic number of potassium
In the country where people hate their compatriots
"Helping the disabled with my fucking taxes?
No way"
I constantly worry about young Poles
The only idea is to kill oneself or to fucking run away to the west
Although not really, 'cause you're frightened of Arabs
Scared of fags, enemies and your own neighboors
Gallows on the neck, next to more and more expensive ties
The only way is to drink, cheers to my companions
Cheers

To the liquor stores
To the empty bottles and full LDR rooms
Cheers
To the local elections
To the old promises dressed in newspeak
Cheers
To the colorful magazines, to the cheep beer
To the lottery tickets and games of chance
To the psychiatric medications and crisis fiancés
Cheap motels, condoms and divorce papers
Cheers
To the cheap flavoured vodkas
To the naive bosses and sick leaves
Cheers
To the growing ozone holes
Free parking and automobiles
Cheers
To the flowers from gas stations
For valentines day, anniversaries and Womens Day
Cheers
I'm finishing and put this postcard into circulation
Yours sincerely, Filip, a common man
Cheers