EMINEM - Sing for the moment (February 25, 2003) | Текст песни и Перевод на русский

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• Sing for the moment (February 25, 2003)

Исполнитель: Эминем
«Sing For the Moment/Пой, пока поётся»
Альбом: The Eminem Show
Дата выпуска: 25 февраля 2003 года
© SONY/ATV MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC
Жанр: Хип-хоп/рэп

Песня американского рэпера Эминема из его четвёртого студийного альбома «The Eminem Show». Эминем взял в качестве семпла песню группы Aerosmith под названием «Dream On». Джо Пэрри исполняет гитарное соло в песне, а Стивен Тайлер поёт припев песни.

«Sing for the Moment» позже был выпущен на сборнике лучших хитов Эминема, Curtain Call: The Hits в 2005 году.

Тематикой «Sing For The Moment» является влияние рэп-музыки на общество, а также разногласия Эминема с критиками и другими. Эминем написал песню для того, чтобы опровергнуть мнения критиков о том, что якобы рэпер поощряет насилие, заявив, что совершение преступления находится в руках преступника. В песне Эминем также объясняет, что его песни имеют положительное влияние на молодёжь, утверждая, что его музыка лечит от депрессии и от скуки. Также в этой песне ссылается случай препирательства Эминема с вышибалой по имени John Guerrera. «Sing for the Moment» дебютировал под 14-м номером в США на Billboard Hot 100 Singles Chart, а также под шестым номером в чарте синглов Великобритании, и под номером 5 в Австралии.

[Verse 1]
These ideas are nightmares to white parents, whose worst fear is a child with dyed hair and who likes earrings
Like whatever they say has no bearing
It's so scary in a house that allows no swearing
To see him walking around with his headphones blaring
Alone in his own zone, cold and he don't care
He's a problem child, and what bothers him all comes out
When he talks about his fucking dad walking out
‘Cause he hates him so bad that he blocks him out
If he ever saw him again he'd probably knock him out
His thoughts are wacked, he's mad so he's talking back
Talking black, brainwashed from rock and rap
He sags his pants, doo-rags and a stocking cap
His step-father hit him so he socked him back
And broke his nose, his house is a broken home
There's no control, he just lets his emotions go

[Hook]
Sing with me, sing for the year (Sing it!)
Sing for the laughter, sing for the tear (Come on!)
Sing it with me, just for today
Maybe tomorrow, the good Lord will take you away

[Verse 2]
Entertainment is changing, intertwining with gangsters
In the land of the killers a sinner's mind is a sanctum
Holy or unholy, only have one homie
Only this gun, lonely ‘cause don't anyone know me
Yet everybody just feels like they can relate
I guess words are a motherfucker, they can be great
Or they can degrade, or even worse, they can teach hate
It's like these kids hang on every single statement we make
Like they worship us, plus all the stores ship us platinum
Now how the fuck did this metamorphosis happen?
From standing on corners and porches just rappin'
To having a fortune, no more kissing ass
But then these critics crucify you, journalists try to burn you
Fans turn on you, attorneys all want a turn at you
To get they hands on every dime you have
They want you to lose your mind every time you mad
So they can try to make you out to look like a loose cannon
Any dispute won't hesitate to produce handguns
That's why these prosecutors wanna convict me
Strictly just to get me off of these streets quickly
But all their kids been listening to me religiously
So I'm signing CDs while police fingerprint me
They're for the judge's daughter, but his grudge is against me
If I'm such a fucking menace, this shit doesn't make sense, B
It's all political, if my music is literal
And I'm a criminal, how the fuck can I raise a little girl?
I couldn't, I wouldn't be fit to
You're full of shit too, Guerrera; that was a fist that hit you

[Hook]
Sing with me, sing for the year (Sing it!)
Sing for the laughter, sing for the tear (Sing this shit!)
Sing it with me, just for today
Maybe tomorrow, the good Lord will take you away

[Verse 3]
They say music can alter moods and talk to you
Well, can it load a gun up for you and cock it too?
Well, if it can, then the next time you assault a dude
Just tell the judge it was my fault, and I'll get sued
See, what these kids do is hear about us toting pistols
And they wanna get one ‘cause they think the shit's cool
Not knowing we really just protecting ourselves
We entertainers, of course the shit's affecting our sales
You ignoramus, but music is reflection of self
We just explain it, and then we get our checks in the mail
It's fucked up, ain't it?
How we can come from practically nothin'
To being able to have any fucking thing that we wanted
That's why we sing for these kids who don't have a thing
Except for a dream and a fucking rap magazine
Who post pin-up pictures on they walls all day long
Idolize their favorite rappers and know all their songs
Or for anyone who's ever been through shit in they lives
So they sit and they cry at night wishing they'd die
'Til they throw on a rap record, and they sit and they vibe
We're nothing to you, but we're the fucking shit in their eyes
That's why we seize the moment
Try to freeze it and own it, squeeze it and hold it
‘Cause we consider these minutes golden
And maybe they'll admit it when we're gone
Just let our spirits live on
Through our lyrics that you hear in our songs, and we can…

[Hook]
Sing with me, sing for the year (Sing it!)
Sing for the laughter, sing for the tear (Come on!)
Sing it with me, just for today
Maybe tomorrow, the good Lord will take you away
Sing with me, sing for the year (Sing it!)
Sing for the laughter, sing for the tear (Come on!)
Sing it with me, just for today
Maybe tomorrow, the good Lord will take you away

SONGWRITERS
MARSHALL MATHERS, JEFF BASS, STEVEN TYLER

PUBLISHED BY
LYRICS © SONY/ATV MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC, WARNER/CHAPPELL MUSIC, INC.


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