Brunghi - When Pigs Fly [tekst, tłumaczenie i interpretacja piosenki]

Goin in never stopin. verses I be dropin
Bitches pop and lockin pills chills from the poppin
Pictures I be croppin, the ones with your face in it
I brace woman you chase woman I stay lifted
Faces may turn crimson on the dot…… and your shit is never hot
Never bought from the people, fake like its regal,
I give you my prayers from the steeple, to get better , I get cheddar, getcha girls wetter
With my feather even better check my sweater in this weather know I'm clever
Never under the weather, hot like some pepper, send a letter to yo bitch saying I'm glad I met her
I turn water into vapor, put blotters on them papers, hotter than some Quakers
Some overcooked oatmeal, my passion always shows steel
I know we’ll throw deals ill glow real Ill even show steal, touring all across the world
Pouring love out to these girls, storing guap like some pearls,
Adoring all the world and wonders it holds, put thunder to my foes, down under like it froze down in hell bitch
Tell satan I won't sell him shit even if he makes me rich
Ill slap that bitch, more annoying than a itch,
Adapt back into your niche and remain a myth because your
Spreading shit like a motherfucking snitch, bitch

Put a twist on the beat like DNA, I free the slaves, lead the way I be this way, I'm the change you need
Raid your sleep, say im crazy B, you got that baby D, G, we? Me? GBE gay like glee
Fasten your seat belt
Crashin the E-L
Stashin my weed spell
Matching the green ground
Passin yo bitchass askin to miss class blastin my syntax
Graspin my pick axe, bashin the sin tax don’t gotta pay shit
Ask Mitt Romney for a mil and he’ll still remain rich
Working hard for money, that’s that shit I do like
But hes a political dick which mean hope he dies to night
So fucking high man I swear im a pilot
She wanna fuck brunghi I say go head and try it
Speaking of head, give me dome like a headshot
Or even make a desktop like your in a fucking sweatshop
They say anything is possible…um explain flying
Without technology you’ll probably die trying
Lying, thinking you achieved your goal
Praying to the gods like you believed the soul
On the surface we stay gold, nothing less than silver
Meet a bunch of fuckers like us, Ill call you ben stiller
I iller, shot a bitch in the face on the ground man I killed her
Still uh.. thanks for the beat mac miller