Sub Bass Monster Négy ütem című dala angolra fordítva Eminem hangján.


I know very well I should have a conversation with you face to face,
About all the buzzing sounds valves create these days.
We've got ignition issues, and if my ears don't lie,
The famous four-stroke will bring it all to light.

The engine, when it’s running, just goes round and round,
It intakes, compresses, ignites, then blows out.
But if there’s trouble and efficiency’s running low,
I check them all one by one, 'cause that's just how things go.

The intake won’t work if there’s not enough fuel,
In such cases, it’s not the process, but the guy who’s the fool.
Well, you need to fill it up, and when the starter's twisting up,
For the full effect, all that's left is just to spark it up.

And then BOOM! Haha! It explodes like a bomb,
It might cough a bit, but it never stops for long.
Why is it like this? The curtain falls down,
Matter doesn't disappear, it just changes form around.

[Chorus] (4X)
Intake, compress, ignite, blow out.
Ignite, intake, hold it, blow out.

No problem with intake, so let’s move ahead,
It makes people smarter, not dumber instead.
Ignition's next in the row, and it could cause some error,
But only if it fails to spark, leading to real trouble.

The divine spark is what causes everything at all,
So it's needed like girls need their guys overall.
Without it, the four-stroke process won’t revive,
I’d stab my balls if I only have my teeth to grind.

But look! It sparks, and the cycle’s begun,
The engine heats up, and it's so much fun!
It never gets stuck, it shrugs off any nuisance,
But it stays this way only if it’s in good hands.

Who's puffing? What is that? I hear something pound,
Our billowing smoke is just trailing the sound.
Whew, it’s so strong—ahem—believe me, it’s right,
The ex-hauster’s surely feeling just all right.

It was all torn apart, but we fixed it up neat,
Now it lies in front of us, perfectly complete.
But why’d we tear it down if nothing was wrong?
The fourth stroke works, blowing smoke all along.

Does it spoil the air? But for whom and where?
Somebody just throws off our cycle right there.
Don’t take it to heart, I know it hurts, don’t lie,
It was a big intake, so just exhale and sigh!

Wait, wait, wait! Haha! I cannot end that way,
This magical letter has something important to say.
I go down the wrong pipe, I'm burning up and smoking,
Or I would, but I fear a crash is approaching.

Both ends are hot, it doesn't tip the scales,
Whether driver error or the steering fails.
If the machine over-revs, though it’s not that old,
You’ve gotta shift quick, or it won’t live long.

No need to deny it, you see that I'm scared,
You’ll get what I mean when I’m talking impaired.
They keep harping on this, and now they've got the right,
But it’s worth as much as a punch to a pile of shite.

The whole world laughs, 'cause they don’t understand,
They’ll call that plan nothing but smoke at the end.
The four-stroke stays, no matter what they say,
It just ignites, intakes, holds, and blows away.

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