Andre Nickatina - The Stress Factor [tekst, tłumaczenie i interpretacja piosenki]

(Intro)
Don't push me cause I'm close to the edge
I'm trying not to lose my head

(Verse 1)
Sometimes I sit alone
And look deep into my soul
And I starin' down at something
That's very out of control
Tolerence at zero
Emotions dead and gone
If indo was a pebble
Man, consider me stoned
Patience low, I'm ret to go
I gots to get ahead
Motherfuck these hoes and them po-pos
I gots to get my bread
The streets ain't nothing nice
They crooked like the itus
And everybodies dippin seein
Who can get the highest
But check this out
Man, without a doubt
Ain't about who's comin fresher
It's about that cash
Man protect that ass
Don't panic under pressure
Mind snappin like a whip
Or better an aligator
Temper going up and down
Like a fucking elevator
Bitch I want it now
Don't give me no delays
My hustle got me trippin
Listen for my Ike turner ways
Man, this life is real
No time to be an actor
And all players that know
Man, let me know
Is this a Stress Factor

(Verse 2)
I wanna grow old
Have kids and a place to sleep
A down ass wife
And when I die, I'll rest in peace
But man that's all a dream
This doja got me bleak
It got me feelin good
But I forgot what I did last week
Man, look at my face
This shit ain't fake
The pain done turned to pressure
Every nigga that know
Man, feel me though
Don't cop down to a lesser
My mother woke me up one day
Said "boy you gettin grown
Your momma has 3 jobs
Your momma's gettin old"
So I took it as a hint
Went on my mission spree
Mind full of hatred got me fucked
Cause times is hard, you see
That monkey's on my back
And I can't get him off
So whatever I do
Mom, it's for you
No matter what the cost
I put that on my life
Everything I see is dark
Money is rare but I don't care
Man, stop that nigga's heart
He's comin like a big wheel
I'm comin like a tractor
Man, taste this hate
Run, it's too late
Man, it's the Stress Factor

(Verse 3)
Some think that I'm The Man
Some think my shit don't stink
But yes it do
I thought you knew
I'm not a coward or a fink
One side of my heart got love
The other side is hate
And boy that hate is starin love
Right in it's fuckin face
Women ask me how I'm livin
I tell them day by day
With a doja joint
And that lovely voice
Of Mr. Marvin Gaye
Man, I gots to get away
That just might do some good
But every time I gets away
I miss the fuckin hood
My homie lost his job
He don't know how to react
So I do wild thangs to help him out
Like juke a little crack
But that shit's over-rated
And it gets complicated
But you'd never know
From that cash flow
And the way the picture's painted
Motherfuckers whisper
And think that I don't hear em
And wonder why I'm over high
And never will go near em
Much love to all my niggas
From workin men to jackers
Cause no matter what you feel
This cut is called the Stress Factor