Calcolatrici Lyrics English Translation by Sfera Ebbasta
I roam through Secondigliano with jewelry on me
Kids play soccer tennis under the house, in the park
I threw two paychecks on a stripper’s backside
But I didn’t post it, otherwise, I know you’d get upset
Watches on my wrist bought only at retail
I remember being teased when I was little
Now I have everyone’s respect, bro, wherever I am
Because I’m still real even though I’m famous
And my brother is in the streets more than a guardrail
In Spain, he got it for 2, here he’ll turn it to 6
Street math, we’re calculators
Dirty money then clean it in bar washing machines
I have brothers, no friends, I have enemies, no ops
I know if things get ugly, you’ll call the cops
Here you need cojones, but you’re a maricón
I ask you, please, if you step aside
He doesn’t have the balls, no no
Can’t find them when he loses and bows down
He doesn’t have the balls, no no
The Rolex won’t save you, the Kalash will
He doesn’t have the balls, no no
You won’t find the balls if you lose and bow down
He doesn’t have the balls, no no
A Rolex won’t save you, here a Kalash will
Yeah
They make the headlines before they die
I live where they do robberies in the streets for little
The panorama is gray, the Panamera too
Who’s inside the suitcase has the upper hand
The father at 41 encourages his son: good, study
Hustle, a brother breaks and rebuilds like a puzzle
Money in the grave, in the game, [?] hustle
Hey, don’t talk like that, you know we fill holes just like waffles
Richard Mille on the right, shining on the left
Tell a man in the springs we don’t fit
Don’t dance in the club
But I go for a set and with the takings, I grab it
All the chains of these rappers, with the chains though
He doesn’t have the balls, no no
Can’t find them when he loses and bows down
He doesn’t have the balls, no no
The Rolex won’t save you, the Kalash will
He doesn’t have the balls, no no
You won’t find the balls if you lose and bow down
He doesn’t have the balls, no no
A Rolex won’t save you, here a Kalash will
He doesn’t have the balls
Hey
The street, the real one, huh
Baby Gang gang
Pow, pow, pow
Ah
Gang gang gang gang
Ah
Hood, ghetto, bando, I buy, an eighth at the DD, I sell
Halo, ready, I hear, even they are hearing us
Hood, swift, attentive, Kalashnikov in the apartment
Four-four, behind
Cops and hawks are chasing us
Guys, guys, come down
Bring the f-, bring the Kalash
Nokia, Blackberry
I’m with two black guys
All Burberry
All Versace
I don’t shake hands with the infamous
I shake hands for business
Kisses and hugs, greet the dear ones
Troubles and blows, what are you looking at?
What are you looking at, don’t declare war if you don’t have weapons
White coco bandit, detail it all in grams (Grams)
Don’t panic if I walk with loaded irons
In the woods, I go and unload them
I already know where to go