Callon B - Who i Am - tekst, tłumaczenie, interpretacja

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Artyści:: Callon B
Album:
Gatunki:: Rap
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[Verse 1: Callon B]

It’s Mr. never mows his grass on time, fuck around and trash the mic
Colder than a bath of ice, fuck with me then rap it tight
I’m ill as fuck so I’m rapping like
The Government when they tapping lines
So all my flows are rationalized
Scheme for all the cash in sight
Whoe! Hold up ho
Kill a beat and this cut throat
Feel the heat when I combust foes
Y’all soft as grapes and I bust those
Lying hoes I don’t trust those
Take your games to fun zone
They’re crazy, and if I ever have one I’ll make sure that my son knows
You can believe that and believe this
So wavy it’ll make you sea sick
Psilocybin on a deep dish and I think I’m starting to see shit
But I’m back at it like a bad habit
Toxic, I’m so hazmatic
What you would call not bad at it
But most of y’all are just bad at it
Take my word I’ma play my turn
Kicking dirt but can’t stain my shirt
Fuck the law I’ma vape my herb
Pull up by them, play my verse
Everything that I say is absurd
I’m everything that you may have heard
I always grind my day off is more like another day at work

[Chorus: Callon B]

You can’t tell me who I am y’all
If you real this is your jam dog
So why you always playing y’all?
You gon always be a fan dog so I tell them haha!!
2x

[Verse 2: Trubz]

Whats good, let me tell you what is cracking
I’m in the lab and I’m jacking this rapping
Like I was tackling
The mic wit my life
I’m creating the spectacular, Rapper
Ain’t nobody ever heard of me
I’m Dracula
Sucking the blood from every song in which I’m ripping
And spitting, rocking linen
I’m grinning and fitting to kill the fucking game like its a victim
Gimme a couple minutes I’m fixing to confuse everybody like the Riddler
Big boned lickler
Big dick tickler
Ain’t nobody really want to rip this rippler
Used to be the one that the haters want to fiddle on
Now I’m in the game and my dicks getting nibbled on
Nip nip nibbled on
Shirp shirp, nibbled on
Ain’t nobody really give a fuck bout what I’m living on
I don’t really mean to burst yo bubble
But if you ain’t ever be a fan
You about to fucking be a fan of Trouble
I’m a bad boy Walking
Mouf always talking on that shit
You ain’t really want to get hit in that lip
When I spit, I will kill everything that exist
Even a bitch don’t ever want to get hit wit the wrist
I’m just white boy crazy
White boy what
Yea this white boy spitting like I don’t really give a fuck
In the back by the dump, Wit a pick up truck
Wit a pump, cock back it go plicka plump
Running in the dark with a mask on punk
I’m the last one to really give a pass on luck
I don’t really give a fuck when it come to getting passed on clutch
I’m the one who’s going to pass on lunch
Rip out a couple reps when I’m deaf
Because the loud that I’m blowing on it always the best
I will rest when I’m dead
I don’t really give a fuck what you said
Because you can’t tell me who I am, beotch

[Chorus: Callon B] 2x

[Verse 3: Callon B]

Kraft the verse like Mac and Cheese
Put verbs on wax with ease
Stash the weed, wraps it clean
(Inhale) pass and chef
Bad little boy, doesn’t give a fuck
You can tell he’s mad in his voice
If he had any choice, he’d scream from the top of his lungs just to battle the noise
Fucking skitzo
Never learned how to miss hoes
Banging on the beat with his fist closed
Already know how the shit go
A little vacant in my billfold
The only motive on my mind is to get doe
Grab a cup and I sip slow bet tobacco kill me before I get old
You got a man and he rips flows?
Better dispose baby tell me is he this cold?
Red headed step son on his Shaun White
About paper then we’ll get along fine
Gave a fuck? Been a really long time
Don’t be a dick would you mine getting off mine
Off my, meds fucked up in the head
Bet I’m never going to stop I
Ran right through a stop sign
Higher than a pop fly hotter than a pot pie