Briggs - Rather Be Dead [tekst, tłumaczenie i interpretacja piosenki]

[Intro]

[Verse 1 - Briggs]
Stop the press, Briggasaurus is back
They're boring with their stories, I heard 'em and I'm snorin'
Didn't make it to the chorus, they're distortin' the facts
That's my fam, Mr. Officer I swear I'm not consorting
I'm important I'm telling ya, kind of a big deal
Battle scars on my grill, I'm kind of a big Seal
I’m black and that feels
According to that, every recording I'm ordered to get to bridging the gap
Fuck that, I ain't kickin' the bucket list
Only bucket I give a fuck about is what Kobe gets
Don't give a fuck where Kony is
Where there’s invisible kids, yeah I'm a miserable prick
But I'm speaking now to each individual kid
Whether you copping the digital or the physical disc
Suckers thinking they can get up in the middle of this
I can’t carry on a date, they just takin’ the piss

[Hook x2]
So what's that sound!? (*click clack blaow*)
Tell 'em Briggs is back (How you like me now?)
Me fall off? Ha!
Does it even really have to be said?
(I'd rather be dead)

[Verse 2 - Briggs]
I’d rather be dead, ain’t never going to sell
I’ll make a Blacklist, I’m probably going to hell
I bodied this beat - its sorta startin' to smell
If you don’t know Briggs, get to knowin’ him now

Large type of fellow, rhyme with a bellow
Put asses in the seats like diving in the shallows
Try to nick this flow like you was Carmelo
Couldn’t hang with the God if you was in the gallows
Marshmallows, soft-serves got nerve
Wanna speak at the drive-thru, you just got served
You can polish a turd but who wants that shiny shit?
Count on Briggs to tell you what time it is
Def motherfucker, natural born gorilla, zodiac killer
So tell me what sign you is
Air Briggs, you can fly with this
Then get to punishing whoever with a crime that fits

[Hook x2]

[Bridge x2]
Briggsy, Briggsy, Briggsy, can’t you see?
Sometimes your words just hypnotize me
And I just hope this song gets played
On the radio so you get paid

[Verse 3 - Briggs]
I can hit you with real Shepparton shit
Your car go, my car – no, I don’t blow my dough
I'd rather go right home
I’ll keep an eye on the city like a cyclone though
I’m not trying to to see the Grim Reaper or grip keeper
Or sleeping under 6 feet of dirt
I’ll be in an old folks home, with an old folk bone
Gettin' that old folk dome before I leave this earth

[Hook x2]

[Outro x2]
Yeahhh, I’d rather be dead
Never will I fall off, rather get the sawn off
Trigger to the finger, pointed straight to the head
I’m getting kinda bored of everything they thought of