A.L.G. - Wake Up [tekst, tłumaczenie i interpretacja piosenki]

[Verse 1]
I'm up late at night
Just trying to make it right
My mom's gave me some great advice though
Whatever's suffices
And gets them nikes
To cover your toes
Your brethren know reality's cold
It gets 100 below
Relax for now
Cry later
I just want you to know
You're safe
There's no escape though
You're gonna find
Everyday is testing your peso
Dont use a scapegoat
To get the papes and stay afloat
I sing my favorite notes
I know some of my family's drowning
They lost the boat
Meanwhile, my brother's boat struggle but they staying close
I take a dose of dopamine
While I pray and toast
Opening glass smelling my future like it's flagrant coke
I mask the truth so I can act like I don't have a clue
I'm truly putting myself into a bad position
Even though I'm calculating my future like mathematicians
I got the vastest visions
You can talk but I don't have to listen

[Hook]
Wake up in the morning and I ask myself (4x)

[Verse 2]
And at this time of day
I'm trying to find a way from Tuc Town to Santa Fe
My west Texas connections
The right direction
Is hotel selections
And business
The riches
Where numbers often come in several digits
I listen to street theory
And keep wary of my surroundings
Only follow where the sound is
Hollow but simple dreams that I've had since a teen
Composing symphonies
But all is been is sympathy
For my unsuccess
I'm stressed
Nevertheless I'm expected to work and grind with the ineffective
Im left with scraps
Still makin my raps infectious
Lets just say they got prophylactics
The devil really wants to get total access of my gated brain
I'll stay the same though
It takes two to tango
Praying to my angel Gabriel
Fittin on my halo
Trying to keep the mind state of Plato
And lay low

[Hook]

[Verse 3]
Family's got my head spinning like a broken record
Too much pressure when I choose between two equal treasures
Taking it to desperate measures
Cause my choices don't amount to nothing
I'm about discussing something that's intelligent
Duckin n weavin
Praying to Jesus that I'll make it through
Get papers to live on acres in Jamaica
Wake up
Smell the fresh sess
Breakfast
Living reckless
Music spreading liking epidemics
And feel the vibes
I'm real and wise
But everything else is ill-advised
It's either 9 to 5s
Or get my shit televised
I over spoke
I'm hoping that I made sense
I'm running out of patience
I'm out this bitch