Текст песни: Epilogue: Long Jawn + перевод

But really I’m sick of rapping, but really I miss the passion

You feel me, I miss the scene, you feel me, I miss the action

I miss touring, miss America, miss the pageant

I’m still married to that dame though the game is Mrs. Jackson to me

Rappers love talking this epic

When we talk of our exit from showbiz and nobody noticed we left it

Was hedging bets at the school of Texas, hold them Rolexes

And Lexuses, just a second, I got a test, but I’m blessed

I got to live and learn, literally, did a term

Then went to gig and earn, urn, just let it burn

Words I could grow-op, no, I don’t mean grow pot

I mean getting that dope though, I still gotta grow lots

Live real stories, grow plots, they wanted more crops

And grow guap and you find some botox, robots to co-op

But y’all know me, don’t stop, I just go off

I stay on point for the heads, this cut’s a mohawk, uh

For heads that’s headstrong, uh, and heads with dreads on

And white corn rows although that’s dead wrong

But listen, this is all inclusive, for all humans, just for y’all amusement

Music for the blue-collared dudes and all the college students

I’m Paul Wall in '05 and I’m car pollution

And I’m James Harden hooping, all meaning I’m a problem Houston

A constant nuisance, I cause confusion

Hold on, this song’s as long as the constitution

It’s just that I’ve got a lot of thoughts that are hard to explain

I’m trying to try a little tender but I’m hard in the brain

Hard headed thoughts darkened and charred in the flame

I’m talking black, pardon the slang

But the flame is like Flocka, young man always gotta go hard in the paint

We talk foul on offensive, they call charge in the game

But even activists targeting Targets and chain stores

They get chained to the same war, same arms taking aim

Arm leg leg arm head, we all the same

One race feeling safe when we start in our lanes

On our march till that gun spark, reminds us of young scars

Makes us all start to run, far from the pain

So we take off and we hide and we harbor the shame

And as we grow older, damn, it only gets harder to change

It’s getting heavy, I don’t wanna let my people down

I’ll fight with evil within until I’m beneath the ground

Sleeping sound, that’s my deepest vow

Till I take my deepest bow, I’ll keep reaching out through these speakers

Now, Gary told me my album should be called «Food Court»

Cause I only talk about food, justice, and hoop scores

Put on my Jordan’s this morning without a shoe horn

Played a couple games, then debated the use of brute force

Versus new forms of abuse to make us produce more

Over cold pizza and a lukewarm 2−4

The poor gotta eat, so like first ball we shoot for it

I’m just trying to remember that life is too short

Every second’s precious, let’s stay up like due north of New York

Where my homegirl is trying to quit with the Newport’s

And my dude’s trying to keep the food portions down to two courses

I’m trying to build with a lady and maybe move towards forming a team

That’s my last reference to sports

I promise I’m through, these women are getting too bored

Calling this dude-core

Hold-on, uh

Just keep it going

Yea, the last time I was rocking this

I was rocking in a Diamond tee

Rhyming like Rawkus would sign him

But dreaming of rocking that diamond, Roc-A-Fella

Before Barack was presiding over the Oval Office to go to Iraq I was declining

I was grinding and I still love it, up in front of the public

Juggling subjects in couplets, it’s funny my stomach plummets

Right before every time but then I’m fine once them drums hit

Drum sticks in buckets, backstage with subway Subwiches

Man I’m lucky as what, this what I do for the ducats

No soul sucking for pay stubs I’m nobody’s puppet

Now I’m buzzing cause this stuff is in my blood like an IV

But just cause I love it, it’s not my ID

I mean I’m wrapped in these rhyme schemes

And I rap to define me but rap doesn’t define me

Trust that I’ll be fine when the shine leaves

Dudes used to say, «would you rhyme please?!»

They had to push me to start like they couldn’t find keys

Now I’m regarded the most rewinded Rwandese

London-born but not that one renowned for the grime scene

Uh, yeah

Check it out!

I’m sending this one to my fam and my old friends

And fans that follow all the tweets that I don’t send

My man G’s on the net, no goaltend

My plan B I just left, cuz I goes in

I’m into 30 for 30 docs and 30 Rock

Why? cuz I’m 30 and cuz I’m kinda of a nerdy jock

I remember before Jigga made 30 hot

And I still front on Justin a little cuz of that dirty pop

I had CeeLo on cassette back when he would rap

Sitting up in my room with that Moesha track

That was back when North America made cars

Now inner cities look like outer space, we only make stars

I remember we didn’t care when we ate carbs

I remember dreaming of that day we would take charge

I’m seeing the seeds of future change right now in the present

As we work in our fields here grounding the message

In real life lessons, getting right down to the essence

Then we water that like a fountain when we’re counting our blessings

Sharing the hope of our hearts and the doubts and the questions

See the seeds sprout into trees that leave thousands of fresh ones

Haven’t got there yet but I’ve found some direction

I’m not a Catholic but these tracks is the sound of confession

It’s like I said 'em then heaven sent down a post card

Over a large ocean of doubt via Coast Guardian angel to say we’re ok

We’ve all broke hearts, groped parts, fought and hurt, drank and smoked darts

We’re all victims, we’re all innocent, no charge

You’re free to be who you are, now go and don’t harm

The world’s so starved for you being unique

That’s cliche but it often is with the truth, see

It’s nothing too deep and it’s nothing new, we all knew it as youth

Seems we just forgot as soon as we grew a few feet

That’s why I like to say remember to remember

That’s why I like to play my fingers on that Fender

And that’s why I write and play to try to find the light of day

In these dark winter nights and bravely bring it to the centre

Still some say it’s hood nonsense, no good conscience

They got it twisted, it’s hood conscious and good nonsense

But check the comments, some supporters got enough hate

Some fans don’t post «I love Shad» they just say «F… Drake»

I got no problems with Drizzy of course

I’m not vexed, I can’t cop what Drizzy affords

I’m all good, I even got to give to the poor

And TO knows I’m like a Benz in the city of Fords (Rob)

I’m thinking they’re bored with the backpacking like, «is he done yet?»

They waiting on that hit like Phil Collins with the drum set

In the air tonight, I’m heavy as two tonnes, heads

Sleeping on the kid, I’m breaking down they bunk beds

And raising hell like Rev Run said

Watch him stalk his prey and walk this way slow as the undead

I keep it 100 till sunset, til there’s not one breath in my lungs left

The undisputed number one-esque

Nah this is a new act called sinner and saint

Where the singer covers inner pain with glitter and paint

And delivers his statements with wit and with vigour and haste

They say the entertainer’s like Cedric, except thinner and great

I’m playing, I’m not a comedy king

Obviously Rap fathered me sorta like Pop’s rap on Common’s Be

My policy’s quality over quantity, real…

Ahh, hmm

Almost had it, almost had it

My policy’s quality over quantity

Real girls over drama queens, real world over college dean

Philosophies honesty over shock, real thoughts over knocking beats

Real talk, it’s over when I drop the beat

Yeah, that’s good