Tiripe Ma 2 - Hichkas, Reveal

هیچکس و ریویل:؛

تیریپ ما ۲؛

روشنفکرای خیابونی

بودیم گاهی‌ حافظ، گاهی‌ رومی

می‌ و نی‌ و حوری، صیقل روحی

گاهی‌ فردوسی‌ با چند تا خط خونی

بذار واست تصویر سازی کنم، مثلاً اینجوری:؛

بعضی‌ وقتا کسی کنه جیک جیک، می‌ریزه خون چیک چیک

ماشینا بیب بیب… خانوما جیغ جیغ…؛

مامورا می‌ریزن و میگ میگ…؛

میپیچن به بازی همه.

می‌گیرن گل

میشینن، میپیچن، می‌بینن شوک

تیریپم جرم

چون جوری زندگی‌ می‌کنم که انگار می‌میرم صبح

ظهر محشرم.

جواهر رو ول کن من خود معدنم

حق کلی‌ آدم گردنم.

آویزه گوشم هرچی‌ پیرا حرف زدن

یه چند باری هم بهم دستبند زدن

اینه تیریپ ما، باقی‌ ول معطلن

ایـــــنـــــه تـــــیـــــریـــــپ مـــــا

بعد چند وقت یه آهنگ مشتی شیرینه، ها؟؛

بیا

This is how we rolling, this is how we moving

Missing for a minute now we back on them movement

Spitting something new here, tell them how we do yeah

Put your hands in the air, like you’re getting jacked by gunmen

Never thought you’d see me with Hichkas in London

From local to global the raps gonna function

Connect with criminal heads like trunchons

London where they buss guns for the lump sums

Corrupted from young if the slums where you come from

Rule number ones real simple: trust none

Check your history 'cos we living in a dungeon

London blood flows cold like the river Thames

So the chip on my shoulders as Big as Ben

On the roads youths cold and indifferent

Opposing soldiers patrolling in different ends

I was born in Iran but I grew up

In a city where the sun acted like he never knew us

A Bipolar town with several faces

Religious extremists and EDL racists

Home of corrupt bankers and thug gangsters

Not all of them are real though, nuff of them are wankers

We got everything you need on the street

Trees bear strange fruit like Amnesia and Cheese

Home of the shankman, home of the shooter

Overnight became home of the looter

Home to the Homeless home of the Hustlers

Must be a Londoner, 'cos I’m in love with her

ایـــــنـــــه تـــــیـــــریـــــپ مـــــا

بعد چند وقت یه آهنگ مشتی شیرینه، ها؟؛

بیا

This is how we rolling, this is how we moving

Missing for a minute now we back on them movement

Spitting something new here, tell them how we do yeah

ایـــــنـــــه تـــــیـــــریـــــپ مـــــا

راه که میریم دیگه سنگین نیست، آسفالت جر می‌دیم و

باج نمی‌دیم هیچوقت به هیچکس تا بمیریم

Never settling.

Going for the gold medal in anything that I meddle in

Hardcore shit, Start war shit, Bunch of Gully Irani’s who buss the car door

quick

Your click on some Carte D’or shit.

Fam too sweet, too moist, you’re trying to

force it

قرصه دل، ولی‌ فقط واسه شب ۱۴ نی

عالمی دارن مینالن.

این، ماییم که می‌زنیم حرف به وقتش

تنها چیزی که نداریم هم حد و مرزه

I slam them rap yea, Original Rudeboy, Established mad breh

The city gets different when it’s dark don

Cats on that Top Gear, I call 'em Clarkson

This is how we do things, This is how we moving

London to Tehran and back, no refuelling

میونه نداریم با حرف مفت و حاجیت هرچی‌ گفت معنی‌ کن

می‌فهمی ارزش داره، کم کم چند ملیونه

Spitting something new here, Tell 'em how we do yea

ایـــــنـــــه تـــــیـــــریـــــپ مـــــا

بعد چند وقت یه آهنگ مشتی شیرینه، ها؟؛

بیا

This is how we rolling, this is how we moving

Missing for a minute now we back on them movement

Spitting something new here, tell them how we do yeah

ایـــــنـــــه تـــــیـــــریـــــپ مـــــا

Nobody and Reville :;

Our type 2;

Street intellectuals

We were sometimes Hafez, sometimes Roman

Fruits, nipples and nymphs, spiritual polish

Sometimes Ferdowsi with a few bloodlines

Let me illustrate, for example:;

Sometimes, when someone chirps, he bleeds

Machine Baby Baby… Lady Scream Scream…;

The agents fall and Mig Mig…;

Turn to play everyone.

They take flowers

They sit, they twist, they see the shock

My type of crime

Because I live as if I were dying in the morning

Noon.

Drop the jewelry, I'm mine myself

The right of all my neck.

I listen to everything

Handcuffing me a few times

This is our trip, the rest is delayed

This is our shooting range.

How long after a sweet fist song, huh ?;

Come on

This is how we rolling, this is how we moving

Missing for a minute now we back on them movement

Spitting something new here, tell them how we do yeah

Put your hands in the air, like you’re getting jacked by gunmen

Never thought you’d see me with Hichkas in London

From local to global the raps gonna function

Connect with criminal heads like trunchons

London where they buss guns for the lump sums

Corrupted from young if the slums where you come from

Rule number ones real simple: trust none

Check your history 'cos we living in a dungeon

London blood flows cold like the river Thames

So the chip on my shoulders as Big as Ben

On the roads youths cold and indifferent

Opposing soldiers patrolling in different ends

I was born in Iran but I grew up

In a city where the sun acted like he never knew us

A Bipolar town with several faces

Religious extremists and EDL racists

Home of corrupt bankers and thug gangsters

Not all of them are real though, nuff of them are wankers

We got everything you need on the street

Trees bear strange fruit like Amnesia and Cheese

Home of the shankman, home of the shooter

Overnight became home of the looter

Home to the Homeless home of the Hustlers

Must be a Londoner, 'cos I’m in love with her

This is our shooting range.

How long after a sweet fist song, huh ?;

Come on

This is how we rolling, this is how we moving

Missing for a minute now we back on them movement

Spitting something new here, tell them how we do yeah

This is our shooting range.

The road we are going on is no longer heavy, we are paving the asphalt and

We never ransom anyone until we die

Never settling.

Going for the gold medal in anything that I meddle in

Hardcore shit, Start war shit, Bunch of Gully Irani’s who buss the car door

quick

Your click on some Carte D’or shit.

Fam too sweet, too moist, you’re trying to

force it

Heart pill, but only for the night of 14

They have a world of minals.

This is what we are talking about in due course

The only thing we do not have is the limit

I slam them rap yea, Original Rudeboy, Established mad breh

The city gets different when it’s dark don

Cats on that Top Gear, I call 'em Clarkson

This is how we do things, This is how we moving

London to Tehran and back, no refuelling

We do not have the means to say anything with free speech and need

You see, it's worth millions

Spitting something new here, Tell 'em how we do yea

This is our shooting range.

How long after a sweet fist song, huh ?;

Come on

This is how we rolling, this is how we moving

Missing for a minute now we back on them movement

Spitting something new here, tell them how we do yeah

This is our shooting range.