Sin Noticias De Holanda - Melendi

Se oyen las sirenas de fondo

En la calle que esta de moda

La madera tras un yonko

Que está corriendo en pelotas

Y grita desesperao:

La chuta o no hay no hay ropa

Y todos corriendo detrás de aquel pobre diablo

Que tan solo hace visible su ansiedad

Y tras la muchedumbre se oye un comentario

Que junto a la olor de akel chigre me izo recordar

ESTRIBILLO

Que hoy el cartero me ha dicho que no hay carta para mi

Poniendome en entredicho que la fuera a recibir

Porque la carta de Holanda entra mu mal en el país

Huelen demasiado a plantas…

Y hay muxo vicio aqui

Y hay muxo vicio aqui

Y tras varias deliberaciones

Y dándole muchas vueltas, como le di

Pa que voy a fumar hierba de otras naciones

Pudiendo plantar la mia en este pais

Y ahi kedó el pobre yonko to amoratao

De las ostias que los maderos lan regalao

Y tras la muchedumbre se oyó un comentario

Que junto a la olor de aquel chigre me hizo recordar

ESTRIBILLO

Hoy el cartero ma dicho que no hay carta pa mi

Con los ojos enrojecios, esta riendose de mi

Porque la carta de Holanda entra muy mal en el pais

Como seras tan canalla

Mis plantas son pa mi

Mis plantas son pa mi

ESTRIBILLO

Sirens can be heard in the background

In the street that is fashionable

The wood behind a yonko

who is running in balls

And she screams desperately:

The shoot or not there are no clothes

And everybody running after that poor devil

That only makes your anxiety visible

And behind the crowd a comment is heard

That together with the smell of akel winch made me remember

CHORUS

That today the postman told me that there is no letter for me

Putting myself in doubt that I was going to receive it

Because the letter from Holland enters very badly in the country

They smell too much of plants...

And there is a lot of vice here

And there is a lot of vice here

And after several deliberations

And giving it many laps, how I gave it

Why am I going to smoke grass from other nations

Being able to plant mine in this country

And there was the poor yonko to blackberry

Of the ostias that the cops gave away

And behind the crowd came a comment

That together with the smell of that winch made me remember

CHORUS

Today the postman told me that there is no letter for me

With red eyes, he's laughing at me

Because the letter from Holland enters the country very badly

how can you be so scoundrel

My plants are for me

My plants are for me

CHORUS