Toomaj Habbeye Angoor Mp3 Download + Lyrics

In this post, we have prepared for you the song “Habbeye Angoor” by Toomaj ,دانلود آهنگ حبه انگوراز توماج a popular Iranian rapper, a beautiful song with the best quality along with the text and translation. and enjoy
(This song has political content)

Artist: Toomaj
Album: Habbeye Angoor
Released: 2022

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Toomaj Habbeye Angoor Mp3 320 Download

Toomaj Habbeye Angoor Lyrics:

زیر گنبد کبود
شنگول و منگول پَر حَبه‌ی انگور پَر
آقا گرگه تنها نبود، با گَلَه‌ش اومد

Under the blue dome
Shangool and Mangool are full of grapes
Mr. Garge was not alone, he came with his flock

گرگه در نزد اونا درو شکوندن
بابا رو زندون کرد، علفزارو سوزوندن
شنگول و منگول پر حبه‌ی انگور پر
مُرده‌های متحرک همگی جوون‌مرگ

Wolves break the door in front of them
He imprisoned the father, burning the meadow
Shangool and Mangool full of grapes
The walking dead are all young death

باباشونو بردن مامانو شکوندن
گرگا شعر بلد نبودن، روضه میخوندن
شنگول دیگه شاد نبود، خواب نداشت شبا

They took their father and broke their mother
Because they don’t know poetry, they read prayer
Shangul was no longer happy, he did not sleep at night

تن‌فروشی می‌کرد گرگا بیارن براش دَوا
چهره‌ی نامرتب، لومپن و نامودب
متنفر از خودش، خودکشی ناموفق

He was a prostitute, so they brought him medicine
Untidy, lumpen and impolite face
Self-hatred, failed suicide

نه نایی واسه رفتن، نه پلی واسه برگشت
بی‌هدف، بی‌مسیر، زندگی نامنظم
بدون سقف، بی‌دیوار، نه معشوق نه عاشق
پریشان گریزان، یه بیمار، کلافه

No path to go, no bridge to return
Aimless, directionless, irregular life
No roof, no walls, no lover, no lover
Distracted, evasive, sick, confused

یروز رسید نخوانش، دیگه جنس نداره
ضعیف بود درد خماری امون نداد بش
شنگول و منگول پر، حبه‌ی انگور پر
منگول دیگه زیبا نبود، خط داشت صورتش

It arrived yesterday, don’t read it, it has no sex anymore
He was weak, he didn’t have a hangover pain
Shangool and mangool full, full grapes
Mongol was no longer beautiful, his face was lined

بیکار، سابقه دار، اون با همه دشمنه
می‌گفت قلب ندارم، تو بچگی کشتنش
فقط تیغِ تو کمرمه که پشتمه

Unemployed, with a history, he is an enemy to everyone
He said I don’t have a heart, you killed him when you were a child
Only the blade in my back is behind me

ضداجتماع، مثل انقلاب، ر به ر فساد
چشم ب چشم نزاع، عشقش انتزاع، یه لات
پر از خاطرات تلخ و عقده، پر از خشم بود
دنیا رو باخته از قبل، منگول نترس بود

Anti-social, like revolution, against corruption
Eye to eye conflict, love is abstraction, a lot
It was full of bitter and complex memories, full of anger
Having already lost the world, Mongol was fearless

پُر از شک و شرم و درد و غم، پر از مرگ بود
پاکار گناهکار رو چوبه‌ی دار رفت زود
شنگول و منگول پر، حبه‌ی انگور…

It was full of doubt, shame, pain and sadness, full of death
Pakar, the sinner, went to the gallows soon
Shangool and mangool feathers, grapes…

حبه‌ی انگور تلخ شد، الکلی شد
مست قدم زد تو شهر، خوب و بد رو دیدو
تجربه کرد بالا پایین، دنیا رو چشید و
تناقض ذاتِ پاک و دستای کثیف شد

The grape became bitter and alcoholic
He walked drunk in the city, saw the good and the bad
He experienced up and down, tasted the world and
The contradiction between pure nature and dirty hands

حبه‌ی انگور سالهاست غصه‌هاشو می‌نویسه
نمی‌خونه، داد میزنه، قلمش تیغِ کینه
حبه‌ی انگور پشت میز نه، روی میزه
نمی‌شینه، نمی‌ترسه، هرچی دیده میگه

The grape has been writing its sorrows for years
He does not read, he shouts, his pen is a blade of hatred
Grapes are not behind the table, but on the table
He does not sit down, he is not afraid, he says whatever he sees

دست اَز دست کشید، زد رو میز، پیکو چپ کرد
خلافو گذاشت کنار، موادو ترک کرد
خرج نکرد، کل عشق و انرژیشو جمع کرد
کل شبا رو نوشت، کل روزا رپ کرد

He pulled out his hand, hit the table, left Piko
He put the opposite aside, left the material
He did not spend, he gathered all his love and energy
He wrote all night, he rapped all day

شنگول و منگول پر، حبه‌ی انگور نه
حبه‌ی انگور موند، حبه‌ی انگور مرگ
نداره، حتی اگه نخوانش، نه تا شعر
هست، نه تا عشق هست، نه تا کشور

Shangool and mangool are full, not grapes
The grape remains, the grape of death
No, even if you don’t read it, not even poetry
There is, there is no love, there is no country

دست گرگاست
نه، من مرگ ندارم

It’s a wolf’s hand
No, I have no death

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