Текст песни: 1Train + перевод

Ah, feelin' like a vigilante or a missionary

Tell my A$AP killers, get they pistols ready

Send 'em to the cemetery with obituaries

Don’t be scared, nigga, is you ready?

I’ve been thinkin' 'bout all the O’s in my bank account (What?)

X the hoes in my bed is 'round the same amount (What?)

Ever since this new star fame came about

Or ever since me and Drizzy started hangin' out, huh

Young boy, let his gun bang, let his nuts hang

Transition to a Lamborghini from a Mustang

Drugs slang in the drug game with the hustling

(I know one thing) Anything is better than that 1 Train

Bag made of Goyard, cheffin' like I’m Boyar-

Dee, probably sellin' D in your local courtyard

Braids like I’m O-Dog, my la familia go hard

Down to my inlaws, they outlaws with no laws

We outlawed then I bogart, any pros that got 'proached at

With a toe-tag, get broke off in the projects with a skateboard

I roll past and I blaze y’all like, «Doo, doo,» I hate y’all

When the beef cooked, I ate y’all like, «Mmm, mmm!»

Let’s play ball in a ballpark with all sharks and a blindfold

I rhyme cold, my K hot, your 9 cold, that bark like K9's on

That banana clip, straight from the rip

I’ll make that shirt say RIP, I’m on some shit

If I’m not the hottest then Hell must have froze over

You thought it was safe then forgot what the code was

I carry traits of a traumatized soldier

Don’t look in my face, I might snap, I might choke ya

Spine right out of place, give me dap like you 'posed ta

Darts at your posters, dark nights like this

I metamorph like I’m 'posed ta, I might slice my wrist

Or pretend like a vulture and drop off this cliff

Barely even conscious, talkin' to my conscience

Gettin' deeper in these flows like conches

I’m on my convict, don’t drop bars, I drop prisons

Don’t sell rocks, seen the spectrum through the prisms

Somehow bypassed the bias and the -isms

The violence and the killin', so given

They seen my pigment and thought that was the ign’ance

Unfortunately, I am not that type of niglet

But pass the pot, let me skillet

Just got back to the block from a 6 o’clock with Jigga

And I’m thinkin' 'bout signin' to the Roc

But my niggas on the block still assigned to the rocks

And I swear it hurt me soul

I try to prevail, but when I preach, I only hurt their sales

Like you’re only gon' end up either dead or in jail

But you my nigga, wish you the best for real

When you mention my name amongst other white rappers

Or for that matter, any fuckin' rapper, fuck it

Painter, skater, musician, trailer park, dirt-ditch-diggin'

Burger-flippin', eat, sleep, shittin' human bein', you would be in

Trouble to body double or couple me to these others

'Cause comparatively speakin', my reach is beyond the bubble

That they put me in, my vision’s beyond the Hubble’s

I huddle with Nubians, new beginnin' again

You in school at 10, late, Radioactive’s goin' gold

And so? Great! Do I give a flying duck?

If I’m applyin' love to my rhymin' plus alignin' us?

Alabama’s climbin' up—wait, no I don’t give a

Flying duck, nothin' but a buckshot, ch, pow!

Motherfuck your life, pussy blood clot

Ain’t never been no rapper this cold since 2Pac was froze

And thawed out for a spot date at a Coachella show, Yelawolf

Weed a different color like a hoodrat bra and panties

And my flow be overhead like pots and pans in pantries

Antsy 'cause I’m high like Michael Jackson, penny loafers

Moonwalkin' on the sun, barefoot, with shades on

Bitch pussy smell like a penguin

Wouldn’t hit that shit with my worst enemy’s penis

Bitch, when I say this, I mean this: Ho, I’m the meanest

Dick so big, it’s like from Earth to Venus

That molly got me nauseous, aw, shit, no off switch

Lawless, obnoxious, on that «suck my cock» shit

That is my synopsis, ostrich’s posh shit

Hoes on some goth shit, stop it! You not this!

Novice, regardless, heartless and awkward

Cryin' tears of vodka, prima donna at the concert

Adonis smokin' chronic, 'bout to vomit gin and tonic

Just bein' honest, tell me, isn’t that ironic?

Swiftly, I shift the Bimmer 860

A heavy smoker, so you know I brought the Blake with me

The moon’s reflection off the lake hit me

You should have stayed with me

Now many Asian bitches lay with me

The face is silky like a tablecloth

My shorty gallop in the mornin' on the beach like a Chilean horse

Red roses dropped from boxes very often

Confetti torchin', drinkin' Henny like I’m Kenny Lofton

Outstandin'

I fixed the game between Georgia Southern and Gramblin'

You see us scramblin', sellin' Susan Sarandon

The cloud of smoke like the phantom

Damn, this shit tastes like fantastic, uh

You see me comin' through in each state

Just so the lord could put the fork inside the cheesecake

Cuffed to my wrist, I’ve got the briefcase

The gavel slam, I’m a free man, try not to eat ham

Big K.R.I.T., shawty

Spit like my last breath: casket rap, six deep

Eyes closed, the black is back, out come the 'lac with flats

After that, bottles I can’t pronounce, like, «How you ask for that?»

Why you ask for crack and all you had was scratch?

All I had was rap, when all they had was wack

All I wanted was love and all they had was dap

Fuck them haters and fuck them hoes, a championship win is

The aftermath, ask LeBron, open palm, slap a bitch

Walk the plank or break a bank, I’ve been in the business of sinkin' ships

Chokin' niggas out with the anchors that they anchor with

Resuscitations cost the label, I’m taxin' if you want a hit

Clear, fuck your career, bitch, I was born here

Been a killer, '86er nigga, that’s my born year

Get the fuck from 'round here, that’s just my country ways

Suckin' on your momma’s titty, bitchin' while I was choppin' blade

Grippin' grain, fuckin' hoes, candy paint like Everglades

Miss me with that rapper chatter, take that shit up with my bass

I put that on my soul, how could you ever doubt me?

Most rappers hopin' the world end so they won’t have to drop another album

B.B. King saw the king in me, so why can’t you?

In order to come up close, you’ll have to dig up Cash and Elvis, too

(That wasn’t no sample, nigga!)

Muddy water flow, Dixie rebel past

Fuck your Louis flag, poppin' benji tags on your wifey’s ass

That’s out of line, but in livin' color?

I’m more like Miya Bailey on you rap motherfuckers: a true artist